Catherine Anne considered herself an exemplary judge of character and predictor of human behavior, or she wouldn’t have been in the business of being a therapist for the fetish community.  In the beginning, she had been ‘just a therapist’; but after she had counseled a number of couples that had their marriages threatened by being part of Seattle’s active swinging scene, she had found a business niche she could exploit.  The profitable thing about being a couples therapist was that marriage counselors were a dime a dozen and if you didn’t have something to set yourself apart you might never get a client base significant enough to build a practice.

She had a hard time not being shocked at the first couple who had come to her after troubles had emerged from an event at a swing party.  The portly husband had been enraged after his smoldering wife had been the only one of the pair to get significant attention from members of the club.  The man had counted on his rather large dick to be his ticket to attention, but the women couldn’t seem to see past his paunch to his pride and joy.  His wife didn’t have the same problem and before the night was out she had been thoroughly enjoyed and he had been thoroughly humiliated and frustrated.

Catherine Anne had fought the urge to guffaw at this man’s hope that a big unit would be all women would require to flock to him.  Didn’t this buffoon understand anything about women and their sexual response?  Even though she thought the woman could do better for a husband, and apparently had done better for sexual partners; Catherine Anne abided by her therapeutic duty and had found a way to reunite the couple.  The most intransigent problem had been that the couple both wished to swing and the loving wife had genuinely hoped to find a way to get her husband similar attention at the parties they attended.  Catherine Anne at first tried to discourage swinging entanglements but when that didn’t work, she helped the couple create strategies that would balance the tables.  It had taken a year of therapy, and a similar to time in the gym for the man.  Ultimately, Catherine Anne had been stunned at the transformation in the relationship.  Near the ninth month of therapy the couple had shown real signs of success, but Catherine Anne wanted to understand this sub culture, so she kept them on as patients.  It hadn’t bothered her a bit to deceive them into finishing the last three months.  They had paid for her learning curve and provided a surprising business benefit.  New swinging couples had begun to flock to her door.  Apparently, it was difficult to find an accepting therapist who wouldn’t judge.

Of course, at the beginning, she had judged them all, harshly.  In time she had grown to accept both the money and needs of the couples.  A critical epiphany had come to her during a session.  If the partners were accepting, why not let them play with others.  The more pairs she helped, the more accepting she became.

The next stage in her professional development came when a cuckold couple came for counseling.  That was an even more significant surprise.  Here was a man, who not only accepted his wife screwing around on him, but he helped.  He actively found her sex partners and didn’t ask to have sex with her himself.  Catherine Anne couldn’t imagine a more damaging sexual relationship than what had been explained to her.  She hadn’t understood the depth to this particular depravity until the husband had pointed between his wife’s ample breasts and instructed the wife to show the therapist.  Timidly, the wife tugged a silver chain from between her breasts and showed the therapist a medallion with an odd silver disc.  The disc held the traditional woman symbol, a circle standing on a plus sign, and the second traditional male symbol with the arrow emanating from the circle.  The unusual aspect of the medallion was a third symbol, much like the male symbol the normally straight arrow at an angle one this symbol was a limp, bent arrow, signifying that this was a woman in a relationship with a man, who was submissive and required a second man to fill her sexual needs.  Even stranger to Catherine Anne was a second loop of chain below the medallion that held what appeared to be a key to a small padlock.

The woman explained that her husband was a cuckold, a man who enjoyed watching his wife sexually betray him and considered himself insufficient to her sexual needs.  He was the limp one of the symbols.  Catherine Anne had been able to wrap her head around that with some struggle, but she kept staring at the key.  She pointed at it and asked, “And this is for?”

The couple exchange glances.  The husband, meek but with resignation answered, “It’s up to you honey, how far should we go?”

The wife struggled for a moment, “We promised to be honest to save us.  Go ahead Baby, show her.”

What happened next had so startled Catherine Anne that she had fallen back into her chair and stared.  The man stood with genuine shame on his face and before Catherine Anne could express shock, he stood and dropped his pants.  She was faced with the first male chastity device she had ever encountered.  It was a strange plastic tube that was holding his slightly aroused penis.  The apparatus appeared to be held to his body by a large plastic ring that surrounded his testicles and was locked to the cage like mechanism that encased his penis.  The lock, apparently matched to the key around his wife’s neck, jutted prominently from the top of the device.

Before Catherine Anne could protest, his pants were back up and the couple nervously sat holding hands while trying to determine her response.  The wife spoke, “Don’t throw us out, we will pay double your normal fee, money isn’t an issue, I just need you to help me deal with his needs to have me be his key holder while helping other men satisfy my needs.  I wasn’t raised that way.”

Double the normal fee for therapy that could take a life time?  Catherine Anne stuffed her shock down and chased the fee, “Which model is that, I haven’t seen that one before?”

It was the prefect thing to say.  The couple beamed and the wife spoke, “It’s a CB 3000.  It’s new and much more comfortable for him than other devices we have tried.  It’s pretty new to the chastity lifestyle, but he loves it.  I got it for his birthday and he has had it locked on since.”

Catherine Anne couldn’t help but ask, “How long?”

The husband smiled proudly, “Four months and thirteen days.”

That shocking bit of data put Catherine Anne over the edge of professionalism, “You have worn that for four and a half months and not had sex once?”

The husband’s pride deflated, “Um, I haven’t had a full erection for that long either, the CB 3000 won’t allow it.  At six months we plan to have sex once, as a reward, but only after she has her favorite lover first.”

The wife started to cry, “Baby, you are my favorite lover.”  The husband deflated further and the pair sagged, stood and prepared to leave.

Catherine Anne forgot the money for just a moment; this was a couple in huge distress.   “I’ll help you.  You both clearly love each other and I want to save that for you.  But, I don’t allow nudity in my office; I am a couple’s therapist, not a sex surrogate.”

The husband seemed like he could barely breath, “It won’t happen again and thank you, thank so you so much for not judging my proclivities.”

Catherine Anne lied, “I don’t judge, I just help.”  After months of treating this couple, Catherine Anne had actually suggested chastity and cuckolding for other couples.  In the back of her mind, she grew to wonder how she could get her husband to wear a chastity device.  If she held the key, she could make sure he wasn’t going to try and have sex with her on the nights she was fucking other men.  It would also stop those early morning pawing she couldn’t get him to control.  If she could just get him to stay locked up as a show of devotion, chastity and love, well wouldn’t that make fucking around on him easier?  She would figure out some way to introduce her husband to the CB 3000 and make it seem sexy.  After all, wasn’t she a better manipulator than he was?

Read “Dead Play” from the Beginning HERE