As the taxi cruised down the road, tires hissed against the damp asphalt. A cold nightly breeze slipped through the cracked window and brushed against Janet’s face. The twenty-nine-year-old regional manager was finally on her way home after a week-long business trip. A week of endless meetings, delayed flights, and weary travel that had left her craving the comfort of her own home.

More than that, it had left her craving the comfort of her husband, Jonathan.

As they drew closer to home, Janet let her head rest against the seat and thought about what she might do first.

I’ll probably just soak in the tub. Or just pass out on the bed.

Then, as the streetlights passed over her face in soft golden flashes, a naughtier thought crossed her mind.

She bit her thumb, a small smirk tugging at her lips as the idea played itself out.

Or maybe ... I’ll remove my precious husband’s chastity cage.

Yes, a chastity cage.

During the first year of their marriage, Janet and Jonathan had become an actively kinky couple. Most of what they explored was lighthearted, intimate, and playful, but it strengthened an already loving bond between them. Jonathan saw Janet as the one, and Janet wanted to keep him as hers.

So they made an agreement. Jonathan’s pleasure belonged to Janet, and Janet accepted both the control and the responsibility that came with it.

There was only one rule.

Jonathan could not cum without permission. Permission only Janet could grant. For five years, that marriage had remained healthy, happy, and deeply fulfilling for them both.

Less than an hour from home, Janet’s mind stirred with more possibilities.

Maybe I could use the wand on him, or I could edge him then ruin his orgasm, milk him ... or maybe a good old-fashioned blowjob?

So many options.

A week trapped in chastity was not necessarily new for Jonathan. Not impossible. Not unbearable.

At least, it wouldn’t have been had Janet not spent that same week sending him a steady stream of provocative photos whenever she had the chance.

From perfectly angled panty shots to photos of herself sprawled on a bed with nothing but a towel cascading over her small perfectly shaped body. Janet took care in making her flirtatious photos. Her blonde hair spilling over her shoulders. Her blue eyes fixed on the camera with that sweet, knowing look. Her pink lips curled into little smiles that said she knew exactly what she was doing.

A fun little pastime it was. Something to help her survive the exhausting week. Something to remind Jonathan who he belonged to. And if she happened to rile him up in the process?

Well. That was just part of the fun.

Pent-up. Desperate. Needy.

Janet could only imagine what state he was in by now. After all, she had put in a fair amount of effort.

Now all she could do was sit back, enjoy the ride home, and anticipate the lovely little mess her husband had become without her.

She finally arrived home.

A modest two-story house waited for her at the end of the ride, quiet beneath the night sky. Janet grabbed her luggage, thanked the driver, and watched the taxi pull away before making her way to the front door.

Keys jingled softly as she worked them into the lock. One turn. A small click. Then the door gave way, opening into the quiet warmth of the house. Janet stepped inside, letting out a sigh of relief “Finally home.”

And yet instead of Jonathan, she was only greeted by silence.

Silence was not unusual. Janet hadn’t told Jonathan the exact time she would be home. Her trip had been too hectic, too erratic, too full of shifting plans for that. Still, the quiet pulled a small frown onto her face.

Weary. Alone. Without the comfort of her husband.

“Jonathan?” she called softly, closing the door behind her. “Honey, I’m home.”

As she stood there waiting for an answer, Janet’s nose twitched at an unfamiliar yet savory scent drifting through the air. The aroma curled around her, warm and inviting, turning her frown into a small perk of interest. Her stomach gave a low grumble in response.

Dinner.

And where there was dinner...

There was Jonathan.

With that, Janet left her bags at the door and walked towards the kitchen. Surely, if dinner was ready, Jonathan had to be there too. He had to be, cooking her a much-well-deserved meal after such a long journey.

Oh hi honey, welcome back from your business trip. Would you like dinner? A bath? Or ... me?

She chuckled at the thought of Jonathan in nothing but an apron doing something so silly.

She walked into the kitchen to find dinner prepared and neatly placed at the dining table. A plate of chicken breast sat neatly prepared beside roasted vegetables, steamed broccoli and carrots, roasted potatoes, and a parfait waiting off to the side.

Janet’s favorite. Her face softened at the sight of the delicious spread. Just another reminder of Jonathan’s thoughtfulness and care. Qualities she had fallen in love with.

However, one question still plagued the blonde’s mind. Where was her husband?

“Sweetheart?” she called again, a little louder this time.

Nothing.

Leaving the dinner behind for now, her search took her upstairs. Steps creaked quietly beneath her feet as she went up. As she reached the top of the stairs, the once quiet atmosphere of the home changed. Not by much, but enough for Janet to hear an odd sound. A groan. A moan.

Whatever the sound was, Janet couldn’t quite make it out.

Cautiously, she walked farther down the hallway. As she got closer and closer, she discovered that the sound was coming from the master bedroom.

Their bedroom.

“Ohhhhh”

A low moan escaped from behind the closed door.

Puzzled, she slowly reached for the knob, wanting to get to the bottom of the mystery. As the door opened, the sound grew louder. The air felt heavier.

Her eyes widened in shock at the sight before her.

There it was.

The source of the sound was none other than Jonathan.

Yet the source of Janet’s shock was what Jonathan was doing.