Confrontation ...

The early morning sunlight peering into the room, woke Mitch dejectedly from his restless sleep. His hand and eyes immediately reached for his crotch, only to reaffirm that last night was no dream. The hard plastic casing around his cock confirmed that he could no longer control that portion of his manliness. The casing didn't seem overly constricting last night, when it was installed, but the fact that his morning need to piss, and the hardness to his penis that it normally brought with it, made him feel how restrictive it really was. Then it finally hit him! How was he supposed to pee with this thing encasing his cock?

He quietly padded out into the hallway, naked, except for his new adornment, into the guest bathroom, careful not to wake Brenda. In the small tiled room, Mitch sat on the toilet and inspected the contraption a little more closely. He noted that there were tiny slits along the length, to allow “breathing room” and air flow to his flesh. He checked the locking mechanism more closely, frustratingly admitting that there was no alternative to the padlock that kept everything in a tight little package. Mitch then located the piss hole positioned at the very tip of the head.

So, sitting on the toilet, Mitch tilted the contraption downward just a bit and relaxed his aching bladder. The yellow stream came flowing out through the hole and into the toilet, just like normal. The release of pressure and the easing of his nerves caused his swollen penis to shrink, creating a slightly better fit.

Begrudgingly, Mitch finished his deed, jumped into the shower, and managed as best he could, on how to keep himself clean, while still encased in the plastic. He dried off, wrapped the towel around his waist and returned to the guest room, which was now his room.

His mind was still reeling from all that transpired the previous evening, but the reality of a grumbling stomach pushed Mitch forward, forcing him to dress and head down to the kitchen. Sweatpants and a tee shirt was perfect for this day of rest. While at first, it seemed awkward, Mitch grew accustomed to having his cock encased, and forgot about it at times as he set about cooking up a healthy breakfast to satisfy his hunger.

Mitch heard the phone ring while in the middle of scrambling some eggs. By the time he was able to reach for the phone, the ringing had stopped. He returned to the stove and resumed his cooking. A few minutes had passed and Mitch heard the shower start above him. He assumed that Brenda had finally risen and made her way into the master bath. He made sure he cooked enough for both of them and began setting the table with silverware and napkins.

The shower had seemed quick, the running water having stopped before the morning meal was completely cooked. Mitch finished up and plated all the food. He put the pans in the sink for later cleaning, and filled two mugs with fresh coffee. He placed them on the table and then stepped just outside the kitchen at the bottom of the steps and yelled up that breakfast was ready, and on the table.

Brenda replied with a chirpy lilt that she'd be right down.

Mitch returned to his seat and took a sip of the coffee, giving himself a few seconds to sit and assess his situation. He needed to confront Brenda and finally bring this issue to the forefront. They had skirted it all this time, constantly avoiding the subject. He knew he was ultimately to blame, and wouldn't be surprised if Brenda would simply up and leave. Frankly, he was amazed, she hadn't done so already. But now, things were getting entirely out of hand. Brenda had transformed into a wanton sex-crazed animal, leaving him to wonder if there was any room for reconciliation, or if he should just prepare for divorce. Their relationship was forever fractured, and was now on an expressway towards doom, unless there was some hope at the end of this dark tunnel.

Mitch began eating his eggs in solitude, when Brenda appeared in the kitchen. Mitch was somewhat taken aback at how ravishing she looked this early in the morning. Her hair was still damp, ringlets of her locks curled and intertwined among each other. She had applied a modest amount of makeup, and a generous amount of lip gloss. She was wearing a white blouse, with sleeves that ended just below her elbows. The top four buttons were undone, and judging by the abundance of cleavage showing, she was wearing one of her push-up bras. If Mitch had strained and cocked his head to the side, he may have been able to see the lace that lined her bra. A tight, form fitting pink skirt, that matched her lips, adorned her bottom, hugging her ass, with no hint of panty lines visible. The bottom hem of the skirt ended a few inches above the knee. On her feet she was wearing white open toed sandals with a four inch heel, easily drawing attention to her long toned legs.

“Aww! How sweet.” Brenda smiled appreciatively as she brisked by Mitch, bending over her plate at the table, stabbing at the eggs and sliding them past her painted lips. She purred as she grabbed a slice of toast with one hand and the coffee with the other, turning away from the table to the counter, where she placed the mug. She reached towards the top shelf of the cabinet to retrieve a thermal insulated mug. She transferred the contents of the ceramic mug to the larger thermal one, and then topped it off with more hot brew from the pot. She took another bite from the toast and turned back to the table to snag another forkful of eggs, and a strip of bacon.

It became apparent to Mitch that Brenda had plans other than sitting and having breakfast with him. She was scurrying as if she was late for work, even though it was Sunday, not to mention her attire wasn't necessarily appropriate for church, nor work for that matter. Brenda's actions **** Mitch to ask, “So where are you going in such a hurry?” Before she could answer, he reminded her that it was Sunday, just in case she thought she had to work today.

“Oh? I'm going shopping. You know .. ladies date thing!” Seeing the confusion in Mitch's face, Brenda clarified her response. “I'm going to meet Nicolette. You remember her from last night? We're going shopping for some new clothes and stuff. We might stop for some drinks and all, so I'm not sure when I'll be back. You don't need to wait up or anything.” Brenda smiled and took another sip of the coffee. She was about to head out of the kitchen when Mitch stopped her.

“Look! About last night ...” Mitch dropped his eyes, trying to find the words that he needed, unable to look his wife directly in the eyes. “I know this is all my fault, and I'm a real asshole. But we need to talk.” He finally looked up to gauge her reaction, and was surprised to see that she actually stopped to listen.

Brenda leaned against the far wall and gave a look that said he'd better continue quickly and not waste her time. She glanced at her watch and returned his gaze. “Start talking. I've got a few minutes.”

Mitch sighed and returned his gaze to his fidgeting hands, unable to look Brenda in the eyes. He swallowed some air and began his soliloquy. “I should've been up front with you about this whole mess I created, but I thought I could get out of it with just one big score. When I met you, I was flying high. Everything was going so well, and I couldn't lose! But then I got in a slump and couldn't get out. I kept trying to make up for the loss, but only got in deeper and deeper.” Mitch stopped for a breath, but didn't look up for Brenda's reaction. She hadn't interrupted him, so he figured he still had her attention. “I knew I was at the bottom of the barrel when Mac made the deal. I never thought I'd lose; it was a sure win! But my good luck had completely run out. And now here we are.” Mitch finally garnered up enough courage to raise his eyes, only to ensure Brenda was still there, and had not just slipped away silently.

She was still there, eyes glaring with such venom, that Mitch was **** to look away again.

“I know I deserve everything coming to me, and I'm willing to accept that! Whatever happens, I just want you to know, that I never wanted to hurt you, and that no matter what Mac does, I will still love you.” Mitch choked a bit on those last few words, noting the slightest softening from Brenda. Brenda's silence had given him hope, without any indication of acceptance. However, when her fingers began tapping on her crossed arms, Mitch could sense the growing impatience.

“Last night was very hard for me. It's hard for me to have to watch you pay for my indiscretions. This whole thing has become quite unbearable, and I'm not sure how much more I can take.”

Mitch still hadn't raised his eyes, but when Brenda spoke up for the first time, he saw that she had changed positions and was standing confidently in the entryway, arms still crossed, seemingly hoisting her bountiful breasts. “Hmm,” she countered, “if I remember correctly, you had a pretty good time last night!” She uncrossed her arms and pointed an accusatory finger at him. “Your cum was flying everywhere. I can't remember the last time you shot so much, or so hard. So, the question then is, was it because you enjoyed what you watched, or is it because you enjoyed Nicolette?”

Mitch diverted his eyes away, once more, taken aback by Brenda's cutting remarks and questioning. He hadn't considered his own reaction during the ordeal, rather focusing on his emotions afterwards. It seemed as if Brenda was waiting for an answer, that he couldn't yet provide. Luckily for him, Brenda spared him the opportunity to respond.

“The bottom line is, I've made a decision and a commitment to accept the consequences of YOUR actions. It's much easier for me to surrender than to fight. As long as neither one of us is getting hurt, like that first night, then all can be dealt with over time. You don't have to worry about me divorcing your ass, because Mac has made it perfectly clear that, that is not an option. You don't have to worry about Mac capping your ass, as long as I'm willing to participate. So, the only thing you need to concentrate on is doing as your told, and hopefully, at some point, this debt will be paid off! Like I said, I've accepted this, and I suggest you do the same.”

Well there it was! It was no loner a series of grays, but clearly black and white! And while Mitch would still have to come to terms with everything in his own time and his own way, there was still one “little” item causing him “huge” issues. “But don't you think last night was a bit too much?”

Brenda was quick with her reply. “Like I said, you had your fun, and I had mine.”

“That's not what I'm talking about. What am I supposed to do about this?” Mitch pointed down to his crotch.

Brenda followed his finger and looked questioningly. “I dunno, just jerk off or something.”

“How am I supposed to do that,” Mitch quickly snapped, “with this damn thing?” He pulled down his shorts and hefted the clear shell encasing his penis.

Brenda's eyes flew wide and she rushed to Mitch to get a closer look. “Oh my god,” she hoarsely whispered, sinking to her knees between his parted legs, eyeing the contraption up close. Her hands drifted to the device and cradled it, her thumbs and fingers tracing its shape and marveling at the design. She flicked her finger over the padlock and tugged lightly noting that it indeed was locked. “When did this happen,” she finally muttered, breaking her gaze to look at Mitch.

It suddenly dawned on Mitch that Brenda had no idea of his predicament. He recalled that she had practically passed out, and was nearly comatose when Nicolette had ensnared him. It didn't help matters any that Brenda's careful inspection was causing blood to rush to that area, inflating his member to the point of constricting confinement, only making matters worse. “Last night … afterwards … you must've been passed out.” Mitch was grateful that Brenda let go and stood back up. “Nicolette tricked me, and now this!”

“Where's the key?”

“She has it, on a necklace around her neck!" He left out the bit about it being the key to her treasure.

Brenda had finally let some compassion enter her hardened heart. She felt kind of sorry for the tortured man. They had truly put him through the ringer, and now this was the ultimate humiliation. It was plainly obvious that there was nothing she could do to alleviate his problems at this point. She pondered how she could help. With a bit of soothing, Brenda told Mitch she'd talk to Nicolette, and see if she could get the key. But, she reminded Mitch, there were no guarantees.

“I'd better get going then.”

With that, Brenda was gone, leaving Mitch with his shorts at his ankles.