Honey Rendezvous

Two weeks slipped by in relentless fashion. Jill started spending nights at Evan's apartment. First Tuesday, then Thursday, then most of the weekend. She would text Kyle goodnight pictures, sometimes her bare legs tangled in Evan's sheets, or a glass of wine on the nightstand, or just her flushed face and messy hair with the caption "Miss you, baby. Be good." Each message landed like a soft punch, stirring the cocktail of emotions that had grown in Kyle's mind. Arousal, dread, desire, helplessness and a sense of growing acceptance that was becoming Kyle's new normal. The house felt too big without her. When she was gone, he would lay in bed alone, wearing a pink satin nightie she'd bought him the previous weekend. It would ride up on his thighs as he twisted and turned beneath the covers, unable to sleep. He would tell himself that Jill was probably sleeping already and he should too. He told himself a lot of things.

When she was home, the rules had tightened without much discussion on his part. No more boy clothes after 6 p.m. She had ordered him a growing collection of skirts, stockings, soft bralettes and panties that matched. She liked him in the short, pleated skirts best, especially a little navy number that barely covered the tops of his thighs. "It makes your legs look so pretty," she'd said, as she ran her fingers along the hem while they watched TV. She'd curl against him on the couch, her head resting on his shoulder, and her hand resting casually between his legs. She always found ways to touch and tease and edge him onward, but as the days went on it often resulted in less actual release.

The tipping point came on a Wednesday afternoon. She had come up behind him while he was cleaning the dishes, his heels clicking on the tile of the kitchen floor. She held him from behind and stroked him casually, this time not stopping until he shot a load onto the cabinets in front of him. It was a surprise to Kyle as he was used to her constant touching, but much less to her finishing him off.

Jill's arms stayed loosely around his waist, her body warm against his back even as the aftershocks of his orgasm faded. His breathing was still uneven as he braced himself against the edge of the sink, the faint sticky warmth of his own release cooling on the cabinet doors and tile floor beneath him.

She pressed a soft kiss to the side of his neck, right below his ear. "Stay right here," she whispered. "Don't move." She stepped away, her bare feet padding softly across the tile as she disappeared down the hallway. Kyle stared at the white cabinets, his heart rate slowing, his mind still fuzzy from the unexpected release. It had been at least a week since she'd let him finish like that. The suddenness of it left him feeling strangely exposed.

Jill returned less than a minute later, holding a small black velvet pouch. She set it on the counter beside the sink and then turned Kyle gently to face her. Her expression was tender, but also determined, or was it excitement in her eyes.

"Evan picked this out himself," she said in a low voice. "He said it would look perfect on you. That it would help you feel more... settled."

Kyle's eyes dropped to the pouch. His stomach fluttered in that now all too familiar way.

Jill opened the velvet drawstring and tipped the contents into her palm. A small, plastic chastity cage gleamed under the kitchen lights. It was sleek, lightweight, and a hot pink color with a small locking mechanism at the top connecting the nub head to the soft ring base. The cage was short, just an inch in length, well shorter than Kyle's non-erect three inches. Next to it, in her palm, lay a slim metal key on a thin silver chain.

Kyle stared. His softening cock stirring slightly at the sight of it.

"It's pretty," Jill said softly, giving Kyle a weak smile. "He said pink would match the rest of your things. And it's small enough to stay discreetly under your skirts or jeans if you're at work. You wont even notice it most of the time."

She lifted his chin with two fingers until their eyes met. "I want you to wear it, baby. Starting today. It's not because you've been bad or anything... It's just to help you. So, you can focus on being my sweet girl instead of worrying about when or how you get to cum." Her thumb brushed his lower lip. "Evan thinks it's a good idea too. He says it will make everything... easier."

Kyle swallowed. His mouth felt dry. "I don't... I don't know if I can..."

"You've been so good these last few weeks," she interrupted gently," letting me go out. Wearing what I ask. Serving when I tell you to. This is just one more little step." She reached down; her fingers wrapped loosely around his now-flaccid shaft. He was still sensitive from cumming and the touch made him flinch. "See? It's already soft enough. Perfect timing."

Jill guided him to sit on one of the kitchen chairs. He moved mechanically, his legs spreading slightly as she knelt between them. The tile was cool against her knees, but she didn't seem to notice. She worked quickly, like she'd practiced this before, or like Evan had explained to her exactly how to put it on.

She slid the ring over his balls and around the base of his cock, tugging gently until it sat snug against his body. Then the cage itself went on. She pushed the length of him, as little as it was, back into itself until it was only a tiny nub. Then she slid the pink cage over him. It was a tight fit, deliberately so, and Kyle felt the immediate pressure as the plastic enclosed him completely. Jill aligned the grooves at the base of the cage with the tube on the ring and then slid in the locking mechanism. She inserted the key and turned it, then she threaded the silver chain around her own neck, letting the key dangle between her breasts like a pendant.

"There," she said, as she leaned in to kiss the smooth pink plastic now covering him. "All locked up for me."

Kyle stared down at himself, at the delicate pink cage, the tiny nub, the way his balls hung slightly below it, vulnerable and exposed. He felt smaller than he ever had.

Jill rose to her feet, smoothing her dress, and gave him a smile. "How does it feel?"

He searched for the right words. The cage wasn't painful, just confining. A constant pressure that seemed to grow the more he focused on it. A feeling that amplified with his arousal.

"Tight," he managed. "And... it turns me on, a little."

Her smile was radiant. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear."

She helped him stand, then pulled him into a slow, deep kiss. Her tongue slid against his, feeling sweet and possessive. When she broke away, he could already feel the need in him expanding, making him want to be her good girl, making him desperate for release again.

"Clean up the cabinets and the floor, hun. Then change into something pretty for dinner. Something that will match your new toy." She gave him a kiss on the cheek and then left him alone in the kitchen.

He stood for a minute, the pressure between his legs building, and took a deep breath, willing it to subside. Then he picked up the sponge and began to clean.

As the week went on, he became more adapted to his situation. The cage became a constant presence in his mind. She never took it off for long and by the time the weekend came again he had worn it for two days straight. "It keeps you so focused and good for me," she explained once, as she kissed his temple.

Evan hadn't set foot in their house since the night three weeks ago when he took Kyle's mouth. In some ways, the absence was worse than his presence. Without Evan being there, Jill spent more time outside their home. When he was there, Kyle could almost pretend things were contained, within his control. But now Evan existed in the spaces Jill disappeared to; at his apartment, in his car, the bars and restaurants they used to go to. She would send him photos. Nothing pornographic, just intimate pictures. Her hand on Evan's thigh under a tablecloth, her lips brushing his cheek in a dimly lit hallway, a mirror selfie of her in lingerie she'd never worn for Kyle, captioned simply "He liked this one." Each image carved away at him a little deeper, leaving him staring at the phone in the dark of their bedroom, straining against the walls of his pink prison.

That Friday arrived like any other day. Kyle came home from work exhausted, his tie loose, the faint outline of the bralette visible under his shirt if anyone cared to look that closely. He stepped through the front door and froze.

Jill and Evan were in the living room. They sat together on the couch, close but not touching. Evan's arm rested along the back of the couch behind her. Jill's hands were folded tightly in her lap. They had been talking in low voices when he appeared but stopped when they saw him.

Jill looked up first. Her expression was soft, but she had the guilty look he had grown accustomed to when she was going to push his boundaries further. Evan's face was calm and unreadable.

"Hey, baby," Jill said quietly. She stood, tugging at the hem of a simple navy wrap she'd worn to work. "Come sit."

Kyle's legs felt wooden. He dropped his bag by the door and crossed to the armchair opposite them, perching on the edge as if he might need to bolt at any second. His heart began to pulse hard in his chest, powerful enough that he could feel it in his throat.

Jill sat back down beside Evan, closer this time. She took a slow breath.

"I've been thinking a lot," she began. "About us. About the last few weeks. About... everything." Her voice trembled just enough to make Kyle's stomach drop. "Evan and I... we've grown really close. Closer than I expected. Closer than I think either of us planned."

Evan stayed silent, watching Kyle with steady eyes.

Jill swallowed. "I love you, Kyle. I've never stopped loving you. But the last few weeks... they've opened my eyes. To what I really want. To what feels right." She looked down at her hands, then back up at him. "I want to be with Evan. I want him in my life. Not just sometimes, but all the time."

The words landed like stones in a still pond. Kyle felt his pride deflate, his world cracking, the very dread he had long felt underpinning his constant arousal coming to fruition.

"I'm not asking for a divorce," Jill continued quickly, as if she'd rehearsed this part. "I don't want that. I don't want to lose you. I still want you and I want us.... But I also want this other part of my life. With Evan." She glanced at Evan and then back to Kyle. "I want you to be there with me and for me, like you have been these past few weeks. I want you to love me. I want you to love me enough to let me have you both."

Kyle's mouth opened, but no sound came out at first. His mind spun, a tornado of images flashing before him. Jill laughing at Evan's joke across a bar table, a trip they took to Cape Cod over the summer, her body arching on top of Evan's shaft, a long night cuddling with her in front of the TV, the way she glowed coming home from his apartment. The cage between his legs felt suddenly tighter.

"I..." His voice cracked and then was silent again.

Jill slid forward on the couch, reaching for his hands. Her fingers were warm and steady. "You'd still be mine. In the end I would still have you. We would have our love, but also passion and excitement and the kind of intensity that makes our bodies shake with anticipation. And you would be a part of it too, in the way that turns you on. In the way you've already started to love."

Evan spoke for the first time, his voice low and even. "She's not choosing between us. She's choosing both of us and she's asking you to choose too. To accept your place in our relationship."

Our relationship... It had all been leading to this. It was so obvious and yet he hadn't see it. Or he didn't want to see it. He looked between them, Jill's hopeful, anxious eyes and Evan's calm certainty. The room felt incredibly small.

Jill squeezed his hands. "I know it's a lot. I know it probably hurts right now. But I've watched you these last weeks. I've seen how your body responds when I tell you what we did. How you tremble when you kneel for us. How you light up when I call you my good girl." Her thumb brushed over his knuckles. "This isn't about taking anything away from you. It's about giving us all what we need."

Kyle's throat worked in vain. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, but he didn't pull away.

"Say something," Jill whispered.

He looked down at their joined hands, then up at her face, the face he'd loved for years, the one that now carried a new kind of light.

"I..." He swallowed hard. "I don't want to lose you."

"You won't," she said, making a promise he didn't know if she could keep.

Evan leaned forward slightly. "We can take it slow. Figure things out as we go."

But Kyle could already feel the shift, like a door creaking open wider, letting in a draft he couldn't keep out.

Jill stood, pulling him gently to his feet. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close. He could smell Evan's cologne on her skin, faint but unmistakable.

"Go change into something pretty, baby," she whispered against his ear. "We can talk more after dinner. Evan's going to stay the night. It will be okay."

Kyle nodded against her shoulder, small and numb.

As he walked to the bedroom, toward a drawer full of lace and silk he now thought of as his, he could hear them both talking in low voices. He couldn't make out what they were saying but Jill's voice sounded relieved, Evan's soothing.

A feeling of inevitability settled on him as he pulled on pink lace. A low churning in his belly. Not just shame or arousal but something deeper. Acceptance, maybe.

**********

The first few days after the pronouncement felt like walking through a haze. It seemed that Evan was practically moving in. Space was made in Kyle's dresser for some of Evan's things. Jill did it casually one afternoon while Kyle was at work, putting some of his boy clothes in storage. When he came home and opened the drawer to change, the sight of Evan's dark blue jeans nestled beside his own pastel bralettes made his stomach flip in that ever-familiar way. A quiet jolt of displacement mixed with a warmer tingling of excited humiliation.

Jill noticed him staring at the clothes. "He stays over so much now," she said lightly, coming up behind him and slipping her arms around his waist. "It just makes sense. Less back and forth, ya know?" She pressed a kiss into the nape of his neck. "You don't mind, do you, baby?"

Kyle nodded mutely, his fingers brushing the sleeve of one of Evan's shirts, then the soft lace of one of his own panties. Jill's eyes followed the movement of his fingers. "Do you like seeing his stuff next to your... your things?"

Kyle stared at the fabrics, then nodded meekly.

"It's okay, baby. You can talk to me about your feelings. I want you to feel comfortable with all of this."

Kyle hesitated for a moment. Then in a whisper said, "It makes me feel... small. But... but I like it. I just... I'm just embarrassed a little."

"It's okay to feel that way, sweetie. If you want to feel that way. If it turns you on. Then embrace it. Here..." She lifted up a pair of white cotton panties and handed them to Kyle. "It's okay to want to be Kylie."

He nodded and took the panties.

In the evenings, they started to develop a new routine. Evan didn't barge in like he owned the place, at least at first. He would knock, wait for Jill to open the door with a bright smile, then step inside with an easy confidence. He'd bring things over, like a bottle of wine Jill loved, or take out for dinner. Once he even brought a six pack of IPA he knew Kyle liked. There was a sense of normalcy to it all, a feeling that was only undercut by Kyle being caged tight and dressed in pink lace. Evan wasn't all flowers and sunshine, though. He would tease Kyle gently during dinners, or after, while watching TV. Little digs at his masculinity, his submission and his ever-growing lack of control. Sometimes he would comment how certain heels would arch Kyle's back more or how nice it was to be the man of the house.

The orders started out small. Evan asking Kyle to get him a beer. Jill telling him to clean up the dishes after dinner. Little things that Kyle could accept. He would stand in his heels over the kitchen sink scrubbing away at that night's meal while Evan and Jill would snuggle on the couch in the living room, giggling and talking to each other, their voices carrying into the kitchen to remind Kyle of his place. Each day would find him with more "duties" to perform, more requests to fulfill. When his chores were done though, he would always be allowed to join them on the couch. Jill would move a hand from Evan's chest and place it gently on Kyle's smooth, exposed thigh, caressing it lightly. "You did such a good job, baby," she might say, or "What a good girl tonight." The praise would make Kyle strain in his cage wishing for release.

Evan's touches started small too. He would place a hand on Kyle's lower back as he passed him in the kitchen. While watching a show he casually draped an arm around both their shoulders during a movie. Jill encouraged it with bright little smiles, leaning into Evan while reaching for Kyle's hand, knitting their fingers together. One night, she guided Kyle's head to Evan's lap while she laid in Kyle's arms, the three of them tangled in comfortable silence. He could feel Evan's breath flowing in and out and the hardening of his cock beneath his warm cheek. It made him leak. Jill just rested a hand, gentle and soft on the bulge in Kyle's panties, "See? We're all fitting together just right."

Each day felt like Evan was growing bolder, gaining more control. Little by little he dropped the pretense of Kyle and Evan being equals in this ordeal. His touches went from light caresses to little smacks. His requests became commands. It would not be enough for Kyle to do the dishes; he would have to do them on his tip toes. If they ate together, he would have Kyle get a salad instead of a steak. If they sat watching TV, Kyle would message Evan's shoulders or Jill's feet. And the worst part of it all was that he was just letting it happen. He was becoming a servant in his own home.

At night they would fuck. Not Kyle. He would sit quietly at the end of the bed and listen, watching, wishing for a release that wouldn't come. When they were finished, Jill would invite him back into bed, to snuggle her while she slept. Kyle would try to fall asleep but his aching cock, confined in its tiny prison would keep him awake. Some nights Evan would roll over, and he could feel his heavy shaft rest against Kyle's thigh. The last residue of his love making would rub slick against Kyle's leg as Evan's shaft deflated. It was just another reminder of the release Evan experienced that Kyle was not allowed to have.

It continued like this. Day after day for two weeks. Then one evening everything changed.

**********

It was Friday after work. Kyle got home after a relatively short commute, his ever-present cage reminding him of what was waiting at home. When he entered the house Evan was already there. It was not surprising as Evan seemed to be at their house more often than not. Kyle put away his coat and bag and entered the kitchen.

"Hey baby," Jill said, moving toward him to welcome him with a kiss. "How was your day?"

"It was okay," Kyle replied. "Just the usual workload... it would be easier if I could just... if I could remove the cage for work?"

"Nah, that's not gonna happen," Evan chimed in, getting up from a chair at the kitchen island. Kyle glanced at him frowning. When did he become the sole arbiter of what Kyle could and couldn't do. He didn't respond though, just looked back at Jill.

"I think it's best you keep it on, baby," she said softly, stroking his face. "Why don't you go upstairs and put on your pretty house clothes, dinner should be ready soon."
"Okay..." he replied, defeated. Kyle climbed the stairs slowly, each step feeling heavier than the last. His bralette under his work shirt chafed slightly against his skin, a reminder of what he was becoming. The white lace panties beneath his trousers clung damply between his legs, the chastity cage producing a constant, unyielding pressure that pulsed with every heartbeat. He could still hear Jill and Evan's voices coming from downstairs, humming about dinner and plans, about a future that now included all three of them in ways he hadn't fully grasped.

He pushed the bedroom door open, his and Jill's bedroom, and stepped inside. The room was so familiar but different now. Everything felt different now. He headed straight for the drawer that held his ever-growing collection of girly clothes. He pulled out a navy pleated skirt, one that Jill loved so much. It barely skimmed his thighs. He paired it with a white cropped top with a little red bow on it. White thigh-highs and little red heels completed the look. He went to the bathroom and fitted his pink bubble-gum wig back into place. A little red lipstick and some eye shadow and Kyle was once again Kylie.

He could hear footsteps behind him. Heavy and deliberate sounds that he knew could not be from Jill. He froze, a makeup brush still in his hand.

Evan appeared in the doorway, filling it with his broad frame. He didn't knock or hesitate; he just stepped inside and closed the door behind him like he owned the place. His shirt was unbuttoned halfway, and his sleeves were rolled up. His belt was already loosened like he was settling in for the night. His eyes swept over Kyle, a grin forming on his face.

"Jill wanted you in something pretty," Evan said casually, leaning against the doorframe. "It looks like you didn't disappoint." He moved further into the room, closing in on Kyle. "I just wanted to make sure you were following directions."