Italian speaking it. I’m on the couch, ready to head out. My husband comes over and brings the sandals I asked for. He looks at me and asks if I’m going to see my friends. I answer calmly: “No. I’m going out with a man. He seems like a good catch.” He falls silent, as he should. He’s used to my outings by now. But what matters to me is making sure he behaves while I’m away. So I check that his chastity cage is still in place. He pulls down his pants and there it is, just as it should be. It’s a special cage too—electrified, and I like turning up the intensity from time to time. Not now. Right now I want him at my feet, cooling them with his tongue, while he listens to everything he’ll need to do while I’m out: cleaning the house, shopping, handling everything. And above all, being ready. Because I might come back with that man, and only then will I decide my husband’s role. The cage keeps him contained, but I know exactly how much that excites him. en I’m on the couch, ready to go out. My husband comes over and brings the sandals I asked for. He looks at me and asks if I’m meeting my girlfriends. I answer calmly: “No. I’m seeing a man. He seems promising.” He stays quiet, as he should. He’s used to my outings now. But what matters to me is that he behaves in my absence. So I make sure everything is in place. His chastity is still locked, just as it should be. Tonight, I won’t touch anything except the floor beneath me. He lies at my feet, and his only job is to cool them with his tongue while I tell him everything he’ll be doing while I’m gone: cleaning the house, running errands, taking care of everything. And above all, being ready. Because I might return with that man. And only then will I decide what role my husband will play. He’s confined, but I know exactly how much this turns him on.