Wristbands

"Perhaps I need three wristbands..." I say.

I'm kneeling at the end of the bed giving Xena her Sunday night foot rub. There's no chance of any erotic action, but I'm locked into my chastity device anyway. It's the end of a weekend sabbatical, in preparation for which I avoided orgasming for a week. Just touching her turns me on and makes me remember the previous night when my services were very much required...

Xena doesn't look up from her tablet. "Guess what?" She reads out some gossip from Facebook and we share a laugh. Then, "What was that about wristbands?"

"Oh," I say. "I was thinking this one doesn't give me much range." I'm wearing  a grey wristband to remind us both of my status, which we jokingly call Compliant Husband. "And that I could do with two more. But now I realize that's silly."

"How so?" asks Xena. "Do the heel.. that's nice."

"Well," I say. "I was thinking I might have a red wristband for when I was chaste but otherwise equal..." I trail off as she laughs. "But I guess we'd never use it."

 "..the previous night when my services
were very much required..."

"Too right," says my wife. It's not  a kinky thing. She genuinely finds the idea amusing. When it comes to kink, it's her way or the highway.

"And perhaps a black wristband for when I was a mute slave," I continue. "But we don't need that either because you can shut me up anytime you want."

Xena nods and goes back to her tablet.

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