Fetish Pills

Author’s Note: this is my first published work on the site and I just want to address something so I don’t disappoint two different sets of people. This story, while featuring an affair as a central conflict, does not depict infidelity in an erotic light. There will be flashbacks that depict scenes of an affair, but this is a slow burn, mostly cozy, transformation romance at its heart. If you’re here for cuck stuff, it’s not likely to happen until I finish writing the main story and open it up for the public. If you can’t stomach depictions of cheating, then please do not invest your time into reading the main thread.

With all that said, please enjoy the story!

What color hair does your fantasy partner have? You are not limited to natural human colors.

***

Lake Faron was beautiful. Tall trees surrounding crystal blue waters, all tucked away in the quiet woods near Mt. Bachelor. Though the first two months here had been extremely tense and difficult, with the move and the cleaning of the neglected house, not to mention the shadow of my affair, things were starting to feel like the fresh start we needed.

I’d taken to working on the back patio, setting up my laptop so I could overlook the lake while I worked. All of my coworkers were jealous. My old friends probably thought that I was married to the only man in the world who would get cheated on and reward his wife with a lifestyle upgrade. His friends were probably of the same mind, but he never let anybody speak ill of me, even when I deserved it. And I most certainly deserved it more than I deserved him.

The lake was calm, the sun setting behind the purple mountain. I’d always been a city girl, had never known Oregon to be so pretty. The move was a huge adjustment for me, but I knew it would be perfect for that fresh start. Besides, the lake house was remarkably modern despite its neglect and my expectations. Four bedrooms, two baths, an acre of land, and of course, the lake in our backyard Charlie busied himself with the repairs, urging me to relax and adjust while he did all the work.

I woke up every morning to breakfast, just like he did back in Portland. We would eat silently, though often I tried very hard to get him to talk. The only topics that seemed comfortable was what he worked on the day before, what he was working on today, and what he was planning on working on tomorrow. He’d do the dishes despite my insistence. I stopped fighting it because I knew service was how he showed love when he couldn’t bring himself to say it. So I’d go out on the porch or into my office depending on if he was going to be inside or outside just so I could feel his presence. There, he’d bring me lunch and he’d let me hug him for a while before we both went back to work. Sometimes he’d even need me to hold something or help carry some stuff and those were my favorite times.

I heard the whir of a drill and pulled my eyes off the screen to appreciate the view and take comfort in his noises. He’d been gone at the store most the day. I had to keep reminding myself that I hadn’t lost him. Not yet.

Knowing he’d soon start dinner, I picked up my laptop and pulled open the huge, freshly greased, sliding glass door. Most of the exterior walls were reinforced glass, which made me quite uncomfortable to begin with, but our nearest neighbor was a mile away and the roads were private. Still, Charlie’s first renovation was installing electric privacy screens in the master bedroom and bathroom for my comfort. I stopped using them in the hopes that he’d see me.

As I made my way up the floating staircase, I could smell a cake in the oven and my heart ached. What could I do? How much longer until we could cuddle again? Kiss? Have sex?

I’d hurt him in a way words couldn’t fix, and even though the therapist said sex couldn’t rebuild the trust, that was all that I had to let him know I still wanted him. No cakes, no words, no flowers, no offers of a hallpass—and I tried them all—could convince him that my cheating had nothing to do with him.

The master bedroom took up most of the second story, the warm light from the sunset adding to its coziness. The california king bed was made and the bra and panties I’d left on the floor were placed in the hamper. My vibrator presumably removed from the spot on the bed I’d left it and put away in my dresser. **** and pathetic, sure, but it brought me some sense of control attempting to passively seduce my husband.

I quickly removed my clothes and, emboldened by the sound of power tools outside, I went into the bathroom and stood by the transparent wall, pretending to scroll on my phone as the water warmed. I was in the best shape of my life, partly because cardio calmed me, but also because I wanted him to have better than anyone ever got.

I was Charlie’s first and he was nowhere near mine, something he was insecure about. We’d gotten over it with a lot of work until I threw a coworker sized wrench into the works. Ever since the move, I wore nothing but sexy. I even replaced all my underwear with lingerie. And if we went into town together, I doubled my efforts so everyone saw me with him. All of his friends were pleading for me to let him go, and maybe he would have been better off finding someone else, but I just couldn’t bring myself to lose him.

I’d cheated in a few relationships before, but when I got together with Charlie, I thought he’d robbed me of the ability. I’d had more passionate relationships, I’d been in love with other people, but Charlie was just plain kind and made me believe I was a better person. One of his friends at the shelter said I may as well have shot Bob Ross by cheating on him.

When the water warmed, I set my phone aside, standing under the rainfall shower, keeping my front facing the window. I hoped he’d need to fetch something out of his car so he could glance up and watch.

I let the water fall on me before stepping off the side to lather myself with soap. A performance I could only hope was witnessed. I slid my hands across my arms, first, oohing and ahhing. Then I lingered on my breasts, trying to make it look like I was soaping them more than just bouncing them up and down. Slowly my fingers snaked down my abs, making gentle circles until they wrapped their way to my butt. I spun around, of course, rubbing and jiggling my cheeks like a **** cam girl. I even threw in a few sudsy spanks before bending at the waist to start washing my legs and feet.

Then I stepped back under the rainfall showerhead and began rinsing in a manner more akin to masturbation. I had yet to find a sexy way to wash my hair, so I mostly did that one handed while playing with myself some way.

The sun was gone by the time my shower was finished, and I was hoping to talk to Charlie while he cooked, so I dried myself and got to picking an outfit.

The walk-in closet was not very well stocked. I’d gotten rid of anything I couldn’t sexify and Charlie still had his clothes in the guest room. Midriff and cleavage were his favorites, so I tried to keep clothes that accentuated that. After some thought, I decided on cleavage, picking a low V-neck and yoga pants along with some pink lingerie that was sure to be visible. And just in case, I put on a dangly necklace to ensure he looked. Finally was some perfume and some very light make up—this was a night in, afterall.

I paused at the closet doorway. I had absolutely no right to complain, but I was still afraid of being rejected again. When I started withdrawing, Charlie did a lot to try and get my attention, too. If this was how he felt, I couldn’t believe we were even under the same roof. I spun my wedding ring, a simple platinum band, and made my way downstairs.

Unfortunately, dinner was just about finished, some mac and cheese and broccoli laid out on the dining table alongside a small chocolate cake and some candles. Standing in the kitchen, washing a pot in the sink, was Charlie. He grimaced, scrubbing a stubborn stain with a sponge before finally noticing me come down the stairs. He gave me his usual, sad smile, his short hair an absolute mess, his sharp nose a little sunburnt.

“Sweetheart, did you forget sunscreen, again?” I asked, trying to avoid the usual ‘thanks for dinner, how was your day?’ His grin widened a bit and he looked back at the pot, busying himself as I leaned over the counter. Please look.

“Uh, not exactly.” He started, scrubbing and scraping the clean pot. “I put some on, but this kid on the side of the road needed help changing a tire and I forgot to reapply.”

Yes! Something to talk about. “You helped someone change a tire, today?”

“Yeah, poor kid just got his license and couldn’t get ahold of his dad. He didn’t have a jack, neither. I could’ve just changed it for him, called it my good deed for the day, but I figure costs me nothing but time to teach, and it’s a good skill to have. Let him keep the jack, too, since I was going to the hardware store, anyways.”

I smiled and made a small approving noise. “Well that was good of you, Love. I mean, think of how many other people just drove by that kid.” He shrugged, putting the pot up to dry. Charlie was always like that. Giving cash to the pan handlers, bringing in food for his students who couldn’t afford any, taking the time to ask people about their day or teaching them something new. Though hard to believe, he was always sincere, no matter how many times his kindness got taken advantage of, he never learned to get cynical. “Can I give you a hug?”

He looked up, deliberately going straight for my eyes as he thought for a moment. “Yeah.” He nodded. I quickly rushed around the corner and gently wrapped my arms around him. I could feel him tense for the first moment like he always did before slowly relaxing and loosely hugging back.

“I wanna kiss you.”

“Dinner’s uh, getting cold.”

He gently—always gently—pushed me back, flipping my stomach. I tried not to let it show, but he could always tell. “I want to have a conversation tonight.” He assured me, pulling a chair out for me. “I want open and honest.”

I took my seat, feeling his gaze from behind me look down my top. “I’m afraid you don’t want me anymore because I’m filthy.” I said, **** for a reaction. To-the-point was always the way we did things in our relationship. When it was good, at least.

Charlie knelt next to me with a pained expression. His fingers recoiled at first when they touched my cheek, but he guided my lips to his. It all felt right, again. I tried advancing my tongue but he signalled no, still allowing me to hold his face and kiss without tongue. I missed this so badly. How gentle and warm. After a minute I could feel the heat rising in me and one of my hands cupped at his groin. I’d show him he was desirable. He was the only thing I’d wanted for a year, now.

He tried gently pulling away, but I held his face. I needed him. He yanked himself off me, standing up and taking a step back, leaving me flush and ashamed. “I’m sorry,” I panted. I just undid so much progress. All that trust and now I blew it. “I, I’m sorry.” I buried my face in my hands.

“Hey, please. Look at me.” He was back to gentle and warm. I looked up, eyes burning with tears, throat searing with whimpers. He looked back with kind pity. “I promise this isn’t your punishment. I’m not ready yet, but I’m close. I know what you’re going through and it isn’t easy. You’re beautiful and I’m working very hard to get our intimacy back. If we can have a good talk, then we can cuddle after dinner.”

That was another thing about Charlie that was equal parts endearing and frustrating. He played his cards flat on the table. In the corporate world, I learned how to negotiate. How to say very little and hold onto leverage. But Charlie was just sincere. He let everyone know exactly what he was thinking and planning and let them maneuver themselves around him. And then he just did exactly what he said he would, never any tricks.

“I’d really like that.”

“I uh… liked your show in the shower.”

I giggled, still crying. Thank God he saw. While I regained my composure, he fetched us some waters, letting me catch my breath.

We decided to eat dinner then discuss the heavy stuff over cake. He mostly wanted to hear about my uneventful day, but at least he was showing interest. My promotion had given me a whole host of exciting new work that I’d had no one to talk to about.

“So, any special reason for the cake?” I asked as he cut our slices. It was simple box mix, but it was still a treat. The plates were small dishes lined with probably fake gold, a gift from a thrift shop owner Riley had done some favor for.

“Yes, actually. But I’ll warn you, this is where things get serious, so you tell me when you’re—“

“I’m ready. Please, I wanna have a real conversation about what’s happening.” I slid my hand towards his at the table, but allowed him to make the final move, taking my digits into his hand and fiddling with my wedding ring for a minute.

He drew in a sharp breath, making sure to give me the respect of eye contact. “First, because I know how bad it hurts not knowing if I notice your efforts: your wardrobe is very sexy. I’ve noticed the work you’ve put into your physique and you remain the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever met.”

I felt more weight than I’d realized lift from my shoulders. Not knowing really had been the worst part. “I know that you’re putting effort in to try and thank me for giving you another chance. I’m scared you’re going to get resentful putting all this effort in while I’m healing, so can I get an honest answer about how you feel about it?”

I blushed, a bit ashamed. There were some days where I really hated him not having a reaction when I worked extremely hard on an outfit or something. “Honestly, I feel kind of powerless in this relationship. You do all the chores, the repairs, the cooking, and it feels like I don’t have any other outlet to put my effort into. I know you have been working hard in private to heal, but on my end it just feels like I’m waiting for the shoe to drop. I like having control over something.”

He nodded for a moment, considering his words. His hand fiddled with my wedding ring before pushing it further down my knuckle. “I just wanted to show you that I did still love you, even though I’m hurting. And I wanted you to be able to focus on your job because the promotion was so important to you. But I think we’re both getting burnt out. Tomorrow, let’s talk about redistributing the labor, yeah?”

“Why not now?”

He tensed up, I could feel it. Oh, no. He drew in a sharp breath and pushed it out. “Because I honestly don’t know if we’re about to break up.” I felt a sudden dampness on my hand as a tear rolled off his nose.

“Oh, baby, no…” I felt myself tearing up. Dreading what he might say next. Surely tonight couldn’t be the end. Not after everything.

“I’m so ashamed.” He grabbed my hand with both of his, now, raising it to his lips and kissing my ring. “I resent you so fucking much.” He sputtered. “And I’ve never felt that before. With anyone. I’ve been robbed, beaten up, insulted, lied to and backstabbed and have always turned the other cheek. But you brought a woman into our bed for years and humiliated me to your friends.”

“Charlie, it wasn’t about you. I swear. I was just trying to come up with excuses.”

“I know that. I trust that. But I feel so ugly and unwanted. When I saw all those messages, my mind flooded with horrible fantasies about proving you wrong. Humiliating you like you humiliated me. And I’ve been trying real hard to let go of that, but after everything I think that this is the only time I can’t just turn the other cheek. There’s far worse people I’ve forgiven more than they deserve, but you hurt me so bad I can’t go on without getting even.”

It hurt so bad to hear. He’d spoken about that resentment in counseling, at least in the beginning. I’d suggested a **** affair, but the councilor shut it down before Charlie could answer. It was both a relief and a devastation at the time.

We sat sobbing for a few minutes, just holding hands. “If you truly believe it would help,” Oh, God, I couldn’t believe I was saying this. “My hallpass offer still stands. You find someone and I’ll even help seduce her if you’d like.”

“No.” He violently shook his head. “I need to get even, not remake your mistakes. I feel boring, unattractive, and humiliated.” I nodded, again feeling relief. It was shallow comfort.

“What can I do?”

He scooted his chair closer and cried into my shoulder. In the mix of emotions, I felt a perverse joy having him in my arms again. I squeezed him tight, afraid he might pull away again. It took a few minutes before he stopped shaking and could go on.

“This is the most shameful thing I’ve ever thought of doing.” He shook his head. “If you don’t agree, then we’re not over. But I can’t guarantee I ever get over this resentment and I don’t think either of us want a relationship like we have now. If you agree, maybe I regret it, but then we’ve both got dirt on our hands.”

“Anything.” And I meant it. “You want your name tattooed on my forehead? Done. Cover my body in piercings? I’ll do it. Please. No humiliation is worse than losing you.”

Charlie nodded. “Two things. The first is a sex questionnaire. I need to know every depraved fantasy you have so you can’t ever tell people I don’t know what you like.”

I furrowed my brow. That hardly seemed like a punishment. Maybe he wanted to post it online?

“You and me can even cuddle on the couch while you do it.”

“Yes. Done.” I quickly accepted, though I felt a bit disappointed in how tame it was. Maybe in his mind this was a humiliation, but it didn’t feel like even a slap on the wrist for me. Sex was always something I was way more comfortable with than him. He was quite vanilla compared to my tastes, and it took a lot of coaxing to get him to try things I really liked.

He pulled away from the hug and against my instincts I let him go. He stood up and disappeared into the guest room where he’d been staying. I was expecting him to return with some printed questions or his laptop, but instead he carried a massive unmarked prescription pill bottle. It was the size of a monster can, with countless pill capsules inside.

Charlie did not do ****. Ever. He once had a panic attack over if he’d accidentally had a pot brownie or not. So this was a surprise.

“These, I’m not gonna explain, but they’re called fetish pills. They’re not addictive, more similar to a supplement. Recommended dose is one pill a day, max is two pills. You can’t drink **** and you cannot miss a dose or stop until the bottle is empty.”

“What do they do? Where did you even get these?”

“I’m not gonna tell you, but if you take them, I swear I’ll be sharing our bed by the end of the month.” He shook his head. “They’re a gift from a scientist I did a favor. I trust them.”

In my younger years, trying strange **** my partner had might have been fun. I wasn’t excited by the prospect, now. It wasn’t like Charlie to leave something without an over description, much less no description at all. Fetish pills? I thought of the possibilities, assuming they weren’t poison.

Psychedelics I could manage, though doing them daily until the bottle was empty seemed ****. Boob growth supplement was a better, more in-character option for my Charlie. An aphrodisiac was most likely, though. If me being kept horny all day was his fantasy, we were already living it. I wouldn’t mind being a personal nympho for however long the bottle lasted. In fact, it seemed hot.

I knew Charlie was angry, but I never would have thought him capable of really harming me. “I take these,” I tapped the bottle. “And we get to go back to how it was?”

“No. That relationship is gone, Tori. But this lets us start forging a new one, now. If you decline, we’ll still try, but I can’t say how long it’ll take me to let go.”

I nodded, picking up the bottle and popping the cap. I couldn’t live in this shame much longer. For a year I’d been desperately waiting for him to blow up and really punish me. But all I ever got were sad smiles and more acts of service. In truth, I thought we needed to get even just as much as he did.

“One pill or two?”

“Two is more pronounced and faster results. One is more modest and slow. You don’t have to do the same dose every time.”

“Which do you think would be hottest?”

He looked away, ashamed. I smiled, knowing what that meant. I reached my fingers in, fishing out two pink pills. “I think I need this punishment as bad as you do. Two pills, every day, no exceptions.”