A Choice

"Jenny...Jenny said you wanted to see me, Mrs. Dash?" I said, trying to keep my voice steady, something I always had trouble doing around my mother-in-law.

"Yes, come in here, Peter," she said, pointing to a chair, "sit please."

I swallowed, sat while she remained standing.

"Jenny tells me it's been six month; honestly I didn't believe it, but she showed me our texts."

"Y...yes, Ma'am," I said, looking down, blushing, trying not to think about that night six months ago when Jenny gave her mother the key to my chastity cage. 

"Hmmm, well, I won't quibble with your math," she said.

"We...we double checked the date, just to make sure," I said.

"I presume you've learned your lesson?"

I swallowed. "Y...yes, Ma'am," I said, looking at the floor.

"Which is?"

I hesitated, picked my words carefully. "Your...your things are your things," I said softly.

She smirked. "My things," she said, "more specifically, my panties belong to me."

"Y...yes, Ma'am," I said, still staring at the floor.

"As I said six months ago, I appreciate you have no control over your perversions, it's your lack of self control that bothers me."

"I...I know, Ma'am," I said, trying not to think of the afternoon just over six months ago when she came home, unexpectedly, and caught in her bathroom, a pair of her soiled panties pressed to my face as I masturbated.

"Jenny tells me you've been quite attentive the last few months."

I blushed again. "She...she did?"

"I know it's always difficult to be caged at first and I know she wasn't supportive at first, but she said there's been quite a shift in your attitude in the bedroom, that you've been quite selfless."

"There wasn't much choice," I said, trying to keep the anger from my voice.

"There's always a choice," she said, "it pleases me you made the better one and focused on being an attentive, selfless lover, rather than being spiteful, angry at the consequences of your choices.

"Really?" I asked, surprised.

"Of course. A husband should learn to be attentive to his wife instead of his own perversions."

"I know Ma'am," I said. "It's been a long six months, but I...I've grown."

"Not literally," she chuckled, "but I appreciate the point."

"I'll do better, I will."

"Sounds like the cage served its intended purpose."

"It...it helped me focus on Jenny," I said.

"I assume you mean that, that you're not just saying that."

"No, Ma'am. I...it was an interesting six months," I said, a slight tone in my voice. 

"You were dissatisfied?"

"No, no, that's not what I meant," I said.

"Because Jenny said you were became quite...vigorous...quite...skilled at pleasing her."

"She seemed to enjoy it," I said.

"Amazing, isn't it, a woman who need not fake it."

"F...fake it?"

"Come now, Peter, you don't think you were even adequate before, do you? Jenny tells me you were quite..quick."

"Not that quick," I said. 

She raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"I...I tried my best," I said.

"Doubtful," she said, "but regardless, your recent behavior has shown significant improvement."

"I'll remember than going forward," I said.

"It's always how the cage focus the sexual mind. I trust there will be no more incidents with my panties."

"N...no, Ma'am," I said, blushing deeper.

"At lease not without permission."

"M...Ma'am?" I asked, confused.

"Come now, Peter, I understand the allure of soiled panties to a boy; it was never your perversion, it was your lack of permission."

"Ma'am, I...I never...I mean...I don't...I never meant to...to do that."

She laughed. "Peter, don't patronize me." She reached to the couch, under a pillow, pulled out a pair of pink panties, "I see it on your face, Peter, my panties in your sightline for ten seconds and you're already thinking about them."

"M...Ma'am..."

"Yes," she said.

"Yes?"

"Yes, they're soiled. I wore them yesterday." She spread them open, turned them so the crotch was facing me. "See," she said, "soiled."

I looked at the panties, the faint crust left by her pussy, felt my knees go weak. "P...please, Ma'am," I begged her.

"Please what?"

"Please...please put them back," I croaked.

"It pleases me you've been an attentive lover, Peter, it pleases me you've focused on her, but it's apparent you're perversions haven't gone away."

"Ma'am...I...I didn't...I won't..."

"No sniffing my panties without permission, Peter," she said, but it's permission I'm willing to give."

"Ma'am, please."

"You have to ask," she said.

"Ma'am," I moaned.

"I can put them away," she said.

"Please, no," I all but yelled.

"Ask," she said.

"Please," I said, "may...may I?"

"May you what?"

"May...may I...may I sniff them," I said.

"What?"

"Your...panties."

"Full sentence, Peter."

I swallowed. "Please may I sniff your panties," I managed to say.

"I told you, Jenny," my mother-in-law said, "once a panty sniffer, always a panty sniffer."

I looked at her, looked at her eyes, turned, saw my wife standing in the doorway, arms crossed. "Jenny," I gasped.

"My god," my wife said.

"Don't be upset, dear, he can't help it. You see now, why?"

Jenny nodded. "Yes...you...you're right, of course," she said.

My mother-in-law held her panties up towards my face, paused. "You may sniff them, Peter, now and whenever I give you permission, but there's a cost."

"A...a cost?" I asked.

"One you must agree to. Both of you. Jenny?"

"I've already agree, Mother," my wife said smiling.

"I know, but he needed to hear it. Peter?"

"What...what cost?" I asked, afraid, afraid I knew.

She smiled, saw the realization on my face. "The cage stays on, Peter."

"For...for how long?" I asked, trying to remember what it felt like to be erect.

She chuckled again. "It stays on," she said, "for good."

"For good?"

"Well, mostly," she said. "Every six months or so we can remove it to switch to a smaller size; the longer you go without an erection, the smaller cage you'll tolerate. You're in a standard size now, we'll switch to a small today, a mini size in another six months, a baby size six months after that. Each size is about ten millimeters smaller with the final size between an inch and an inch and a half. So that's three unlocks until it's permanent."

"An...an inch?" I gasped.

"About an inch an a quarter," she said, "when it's permanent."

"I'll never be more...more than an inch and a half?"

"She won't miss it, Peter, the choice is yours." She held the crotch of the panties near my face, not so close I could touch them, but close enough I could smell them. "You'll always need permission, but it won't be unreasonably withheld."

"P...please," I moaned.

"You must chose, Peter," she said, "the cage or our soiled panties?"

"The...the...the panties," I said softly.

She smiled. "Of course, Peter," she said, "of course." She took the last step to me, put the panties over my head, arranged them so the crotch covered my nose and mouth, making it impossible for me to breath without smelling them, her."

"My god," I heard my wife's voice through the fog of arousal.

"I told you, Jenny," my mother-in-law said, "the power of pussy over a caged husband. You'll learn, dear, I'll teach you, you'll learn. The longer he's caged, the more trainable he'll become."

"God, mother, I'm so wet," my wife said, quickly covering her mouth in shame. "I'm sorry."

My mother-in-law smiled. "Don't be sorry, dear, this is how you train him, bring him to heel. Tease him, arouse him, deny him and he'll be your slave forever."