My Journey Into A Loving Female Led Relationship: Chapter 36

My name is John, though I go by rgjohn, and I’ve written a few erotic books and some content for Literotica. When Emma read my work, she suggested I write about loving, female-led relationships—a genre she’s passionate about. It’s been a while since I’ve written, but a fan recently reignited my interest by asking me to turn his detailed journal into a story. Initially skeptical, I found myself captivated by his account of a Female-Led Relationship (FLR), a concept I hadn’t explored before. With a mix of curiosity and research, I’ve decided to craft a multi-part story spanning many chapters. If you are just starting, you should begin your journey back at chapter 1.

Chapter 36: Anna Makes Love To Another Man

I shook my head firmly. “No way. There’s no chance I’ll be able to sleep.”

Anna said, “Would you like me to text you? Maybe when dinner is over and… when we go to the hotel room?”

I hesitated, wondering if I really did, but as I said before, knowing was better than not knowing. I swallowed hard. “Yes… and maybe when you’re on your way home, too.”

Her smile widened as she leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on my cheek. “I’ll text you… and maybe even in between when we take a break… we’ll see,” she said.

My poor little penis was still drooling like a faucet.

Then, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, she said, “Maybe I will leave you out of your cage while I am gone.”

I couldn’t believe what she had said.

Then she giggled and said, “No way.” And that was that. Then she pressed ice firmly against my swollen flesh, forcing my desperate little penis to shrink. Unfortunately, even then, it was a struggle to get the cage on. She had picked out the smallest of my cages.

She giggled and said, “I want the tiny one so that you will be very conscious of me and what I am doing if your little thing tries to get hard.”

Of course it would try to get hard. I shuddered at the sudden chill, my body betraying me with its helpless obedience. She wanted to feel the sweet torture all night long. In the smallest gage, there was no way I could get hard, and she knew it.

With a satisfied grin, she gave my cage a light tug for emphasis, the metal clicking into place as she secured the lock. It was a symbolic sound. With that click, it solidified that I was soon to be not just a caged submissive, but a caged cuckold.

Holding my gaze, she lifted the key and slipped the chain around her neck, letting it dangle for a moment before tucking it inside her blouse. My heart skipped a beat. She was taking something of me with her… or at least, a very important part of me. That tiny key wasn’t just to my chastity; it was the very symbol of our FLR, of my submission, of her complete control.

If she left it around her neck all night, I knew Michael would notice. And when he did, what would she say? Would she even tell him? Did he already know? He probably did. My mind swirled with questions, but in that moment, it hardly mattered. Because the truth was, I had already been locked away, both physically and emotionally for my wonderful wife. Whatever happened next was entirely up to her. My desire for her would only grow.

Then she giggled, leaned close to my ear and whispered, “I might have a little surprise for you when I get home.”

“What?” I said, wondering what she was talking about. I honestly didn’t know what she meant… at least at first. Then I discounted what was going through my head.

She walked away and didn’t look back, just waved her hand at me. I could hear her heels clicking softly against the floor, I was left standing there, heart racing, stomach in knots, and mind spinning with emotions I couldn’t fully process.

When she the front door closed, the reality hit me like a wave. My wife, the woman I’d devoted myself to, was going to fuck another man. My stomach churned as I replayed her words and the way her eyes had sparkled with excitement this entire evening.

For years, Anna and I had shared an unconventional but fulfilling arrangement. I hadn’t been able to satisfy her with my body due to my size and stamina, but we’d found our rhythm. I took pride in pleasuring her with my mouth, and the artificial cock. In return, at my encouragement, she kept me locked in chastity, ensuring my focus was solely on her. But tonight was different. Tonight, someone else would be giving her pleasure… pleasure I could never provide. After this, even if she let me penetrate her, which she would never do, she wouldn’t even feel it… seven inches plus compared to less than five now. 

My penis strained painfully against the unyielding confines of my cage, futilely pressing against its limits. There was barely enough room for it to grow an inch, trapped in a state of permanent frustration. Anna liked it that way. The only time she wanted me hard was when she was teasing me… or like the rare occasion when she left me free for a short time… like tonight. As always, she was in control of my arousal, pushing me to the edge only to leave me aching and denied.

When she left me uncaged tonight, I had felt more exposed than ever. Stripped bare, not just physically, but emotionally. As if the cage… restrictive, confining, and inescapable… had become an extension of me… a constant, undeniable symbol of my submission. Without it, I was vulnerable in a way that ran deeper than flesh. She knew this.

While she was out on her date, she had no doubt I would behave. I had no choice. And she knew exactly what leaving me home caged would do to me. The psychological weight of it. The hunger it would stir. She knew my desire for her would only grow, insatiable and raw. The ache I felt in her absence wasn’t just physical… it was emotional, it was spiritual. And she understood that ache would multiply with every hour she was gone, magnified a thousand times in my mind.

It was torture. A sweet, exquisite torment we both understood… and loved, each in our own way.

As the minutes ticked by, I tried to distract myself by cleaning up around the house, but my mind never left her and wondering what she was doing at that very minute. She was probably looking naughtily across the table at the man she was going to be intimate with.  My poor penis dripped with precum continually.

Then, as I was scrubbing a dish, I got the first text. I jumped and almost dropped the dish. I picked up the phone with shaking hand. It said, “He has my panties. Don’t worry, I will get them back to bring home to you.”

I suddenly realized that the little surprise was probably her wet panties… I was right, and wrong.

Another message pinged on my phone, “We are heading for the room. The hotel is across the street. He left early to check in and so no one will see us going into a hotel together. Wish me luck. I love you. Kisses.”

I gripped the counter to steady myself, I felt a sensation unlike anything I’d felt before. My heart raced as the images in my head became clear: Anna was heading to bed with Michael. This was it, there was no turning back. 

I sank onto a chair, trembling. The image of another man inside my wife filled my mind… him thrusting into her. The both of them moaning in pleasure as he pumped his large cock into her… and then filling her with his seed. She had made it clear that she wouldn’t be using protection, and the thought of her accepting his bare load made my caged penis pulse painfully. My emotions were a chaotic mix of jealousy, arousal, and surrender.

Several hours passed before I got the next text. My hands were shaking as I picked up the phone again. It was too soon for her to be coming home. Had things gone wrong, I wondered.

I saw a message that shook me. It said, “Taking a break. He is wonderful. Beautiful big cock and he knows how to use it. The head is amazingly large… twice your size.”

A barely had a chance to breath when a second later a third text arrived. What it said almost made me climax in my cage. “Filled with his cum … huge load … going to the bathroom to clean up… wish you were here. Love you, Anna.”

I couldn’t believe it… I was never expecting a text like that. It excited me beyond belief because I knew that she was thinking of me. In the mix of jealously and anxiety, it also comforted me in a strange way and made me love her even more. I thought of a quote I had seen recently; “I begged my wife to cage me because I love her … my wife agreed to cage me because she loves me.” It was a perfect quote for our relationship. I knew for certain at that moment that

 I would have pleasured myself if I had been left uncaged.

Finally, I had drifted off to sleep on the sofa when I got the final message, “On my way home.” I jumped up off the sofa in a panic.

My heart pounded as I began to pace the living room, anticipation and nerves overwhelming me. When I heard the key in the lock, I froze. The door opened, and there stood Anna, looking utterly disheveled but radiant. She leaned back on the closed door, staring at me. She had a tired, but broad and sly smile on her face. There was little doubt that she had been well fucked. Her hair was tousled, her makeup smudged, and her bra was noticeably missing. Her blouse was actually buttoned in the wrong holes. It was obvious that she hadn’t bothered to fix her makeup or clothes before she left. I knew that was intentionally designed to tease me. Shockingly, hickeys adorned her neck as evidence of Michael’s passion.

She stepped toward me, her eyes locking onto mine as another sly smile spread across her lips.

“Miss me?” she teased.

As she moved closer, she reached down and grabbed my caged penis.

“What’s this?” she asked, noticing that I was straining in the cage, and dripping like a faucet again.

Blushing furiously, I stammered, “I, uh… I uh… was…”

“Thinking of me,” she said.

“Yes, every minute, all night,” I whispered.

She giggled and said, “Wow, what a night, Michael doesn’t know when to stop. We went three rounds and he ate me to several climaxes before we even started fucking, but he is nowhere near as good as you are with your mouth.”

I didn’t know whether I felt proud or jealous, maybe both.

Anna’s expression softened. “You’re okay with this, right? You’re the one who wanted the FLR, remember?”

“Yes,” I whispered, my voice trembling. I knew there was no other acceptable answer. Still it was sincere.

“Good,” she said, pulling me into a kiss.

Her lips were soft and wet, and all I could think about was where her mouth had just been. The image flashed through my mind… her lips wrapped around his thick cock, the same mouth I had kissed a thousand times. Maybe he had even finished in there. The thought hit me hard, a twisted mix of jealousy and arousal, and despite my shock, my penis throbbed inside its cage.

When we finally broke the kiss, she gave me a wicked smile.

“Hurry,” she said, her voice low and urgent. “I told you I had a surprise for you. I put the panties back on.”

She took my hand and tugged me toward the bedroom, moving quickly.

For a second, I wondered if she was really just talking about her soaked panties. Then it hit me, this wasn’t about her. Not entirely. A jolt of excitement shot through me, stealing my breath.

I stood there, heart pounding, as she unbuttoned her blouse. Her beautiful breasts spilled free, and I was close enough to catch her scent… raw, heady, unmistakably sex. My eyes traced over her skin. There were marks, fresh ones. Red streaks from his hands. Hickies scattered across the soft flesh of her breasts. I had never thought to leave marks like that, and I wasn’t sure she’d ever let me. But he had. And she had let him.

Then, without a word, she turned and sat on the edge of the bed. She leaned back slowly, her body graceful and unashamed, and spread her legs wide.

I gasped. She was, in fact, wearing the panties I had chosen for her, delicate and lacy. But now they were soaked, darkened with wetness, and unmistakably stained with his cum. The realization hit me like a punch to the chest, followed instantly by a surge of raw excitement. She didn’t need to say a word. But she did anyway.

“Michael filled me with cum again just before we left,” she said, her voice thick with wicked pleasure. Her grin was downright sinful. “I didn’t clean up. I didn’t want to waste any of it… so I put my panties back on to keep from losing a drop. Now,” her eyes darkened, “take them off.”

It wasn’t a request. It was a command. And we both knew it.

Anna was testing me. Pushing me. She knew I’d swallowed my own cum for her before. But this… this was something entirely different.

And yet, I didn’t hesitate. I couldn’t.

I dropped to my knees, my hands trembling as I slid them beneath her skirt. Slowly, I pushed the fabric upward, exposing more of her smooth skin. When I reached her hips, I hooked my fingers into the waistband of her sodden panties and pulled them down. Inch by inch, they peeled away from her body, clinging to her slick folds for a moment before releasing with a soft, wet sound… almost imperceptible. But I heard it and it made my little penis pulse even more.

What lay beneath stole my breath.

Her pussy was thoroughly used, her swollen lips glistening with a mixture of his cum and her arousal. Pearlescent streaks of semen trailed onto her inner thighs. She looked stretched, open, well-fucked in a way I had never seen before… in a way I could never do.

“Clean me up,” she said, her tone cool and expectant, though her breathing told me how excited she was. She shifted, spreading her legs wider, baring everything. “You’ll lick those panties later when you go to bed. But right now? Right now, you have a job to do.”

I hesitated for just a moment, taking it all in.

Then, without warning, Anna grabbed the back of my head and tugged me forward, forcing me between her thighs. Her grip was firm, but her touch sent a jolt of electricity through me.

I gasped, still reeling from her words—your duty.

 “Okay… okay,” I stammered, my breath shaky as I lowered my head and pressed my mouth to her.

I started with her thighs, licking the salty trails of cum that had leaked out of her. The taste was not unfamiliar, but it was thicker and richer than my own. I wouldn’t say it tasted good, but certainly not a bitter as mine. I worked slowly, trying to process the surreal moment… cleaning another man’s seed from my wife’s body.

“Good boy,” Anna cooed, her fingers threading through my hair, nails grazing my scalp in a way that sent shivers down my spine.

I moved closer, my breath hot against her, my tongue tracing her slick folds with slow, deliberate strokes. Every drop of her arousal mingled on my tongue, the taste of her rich and intoxicating. Above me, her breathing grew heavier, a sure sign she was enjoying my attention.

“Don’t be shy. Get in there,” she encouraged, her voice sultry, firm. She pushed my face closer, guiding me exactly where she wanted me.

I obeyed, pressing deeper, my tongue exploring her thoroughly, savoring the strange, unmistakable mix of flavors… Anna’s, and his. The thought made my caged cock throb, aching against its confinement. My moan vibrated against her, and she responded with a sharp intake of breath.

Her fingers tightened in my hair, holding me in place as I worked. “Mmm, you’re doing so well,” she murmured, her voice thick with pleasure. “Good boy.”

The heat between her legs intensified, her arousal coating my lips as I worshipped her with my tongue. Each flick, each stroke, each hungry lap fueled the fire building within her. My submission was complete, and she knew it.

Anna’s hips suddenly bucked, a sharp gasp tearing from her throat. “Fuck, yes!” she cried, her thighs clamping around my head as she came, body quaking with pleasure. Her grip in my hair tightened, holding me firmly in place as wave after wave of ecstasy rolled through her.

When she finally loosened her hold, I pulled back slightly, my face wet with their mingled essence. But she wasn’t finished.

“Keep going,” she commanded, her voice thick with lust, her fingers curling in my hair as she nudged my head back down.

I obeyed without hesitation, my tongue plunging between her folds once more. I was determined to leave no trace of him behind. Every time I thought I had licked her clean, more of him seeped out, and I swallowed it eagerly, greedily, as if her pleasure, and my place, depended on it. I lifted her hips slightly, letting my tongue drift lower, teasing the sensitive flesh beneath her, dragging slow, deliberate strokes over her puckered hole. She moaned in appreciation, her fingers trembling as they tightened in my hair again.

She came. Then again. And again. Her body quivered against my mouth, each climax stealing the breath from her lips until her moans softened into broken whimpers of surrender. Still, I didn’t stop. I licked and worshipped until her thighs finally relaxed, her grip slackened, and her breathing deepened into something slow and languid.

Only then did I realize she had passed out, completely spent from the evening’s indulgence.

For a long moment, I remained where I was, lips still resting against her warmth, my chest rising and falling with slow, measured breaths. Incredibly, I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to stop. But I had done what she asked of me. And I had done it well.

I pulled back, strings of Michael’s sperm stuck to my lips. I turned and my gaze drifted to where her panties lay on the floor… a silent declaration of everything that had happened. A visual symbol of my place. I imagined her hurrying home, the taste of him still fresh on her lips, eager to make sure her surprise remained intact. She knew I would understand. She knew I would accept it. And I loved her for that.

Anna had ordered me to take them. To press my tongue to the fabric. To taste the evidence of her pleasure—and his. And I would.

I could have lied. I could have told her I had licked them clean, whether I had or not. Maybe she’d never know. But I couldn’t. That would be a betrayal, not just of her command, but of the trust between us. I never lied to Anna. Not because I feared her punishment, though I did, but because she had a way of knowing. One look into my eyes and she would see the truth. Or worse, the lie.

So yes, I would humble myself. I would lower my head and press my lips to the stained silk, and I would lick. I would taste the mingled essence of their pleasure and accept it. Not out of duty. But because it was what she wanted.

And when I had finished, I wouldn’t cast them aside. I would keep them close. I would take them to bed with me, fold them beneath my pillow, and sleep with her scent surrounding me. Wrapped in the undeniable reality of what she had done. And who I was to her.

To Be Continued