dominant wife

This story is continued as “Sarah’s Way” in subsequent chapters, having discovered that there is already a series under my original title posted.


Coming from the hall, I met my wife, Sarah, in the middle of the living room, dressed like she was headed out the door on her usual Saturday morning errands.

She stopped in front of me with a serious look on her face and said,

“Mark, today at 5 o’clock you are to meet me right here, in the living room, completely naked. You are to bring with you that tall stool you’ve had since college and a paddle from the ping-pong set with the game table downstairs. And, before then you are to go out in the yard and from one of the trees or bushes cut me a switch. More of a rod than a flimsy twig, actually. It is to be flexible, but firm, not brittle.

“You are to be caned,” she said, without breaking her tone or increasingly stern expression. “And you are to provide your own instrument of your torture.”

My jaw dropped further and further as she went on. I gazed at her with disbelief, not knowing what other emotion to show.

But when a fiery redhead fixes those bright green eyes in a stern stair at you, the idea that “she’s kidding” does not seem to be one of the most likely explanations.

Sarah and I had been married for five years, dating for a few years before that and now in our late 30s without children, but still with a declining sex life.

Sarah had the kind of body I love, but not the kind that most men find ideal. She had long, bright red hair and a fair, freckled complexion. She carried a few extra pounds on that 5’5″ frame, top heavy with large breasts.

Not that she was in the “BBW” category — not at all according to my definition. But that little extra weight for me gave her a feel of authenticity, a real woman from strong country stock and not the drop-dead figure of a beauty that so often seems unreachable.

Still, those few extra pounds made her sensitive about her body, and uncomfortable being undressed in front of me. I wasn’t even allowed in the bathroom with her and had grown to resent her physical bashfulness. So, too, did I resent her bossiness around the house.

Of course, resentment manifests itself in small ways that become large in a relationship, and our marriage was under some strain, though nowhere near a break-up point.

As we had grown more apart physically, I had taken to indulging in sexual fantasies on the Internet, including some long-held fascination with female dominant CFNM and BDSM scenarios. Sarah was quite a neophyte at using the Internet with search engines and web browsers, so it seemed easy to hide my secretive stuff from her view. Or was it?

With this out-of-the-blue declaration of what I was to do leading up to being caned (and I knew from the Web what that meant!) I didn’t know how to process it.

Was Sarah displaying some hidden sexually dominant side of her personality? Was she angry over those little ways my resentment showed through and wanted to physically punish me for it?

Worse yet, there were those times that I half-heartedly dabbled in searches for casual sex or affairs over the ‘Net. Had she discovered those with computer skills I didn’t know she had and was ready to administer severe punishment for it?

Did she just discover my Internet porn surfing and find my interest in female domination fantasies, and decided to play the role because she thought that’s what I wanted sexually? But fantasies are not realities, and I didn’t necessarily want to experience anything like that for real.

So was this a sexual game? An attempt to punish me for wrongdoing? An outrageous step taken to force a breakup she wanted?

All of this flashed through my mind in a matter of seconds as she relayed her orders and maintained her demeanor.

Then it was my turn to speak and I had to process and think of something quick.

“You can’t be serious,” I laughed, though nothing in her demeanor suggested she was not serious.

“You want to cane me? Why do you want to cane me and why in the world should I let you? Is this some kind of joke?”

“She continued to glare at me in an enigmatic way, still impossible to discern if this were a game or revenge for wrong at play.

“I have good reasons for wanting to do it, and I think you know that. If you want to talk about it first, I suppose we can,” she sighed. “But knowing how you hate talks about ‘our relationship’ or problems that we’re having, it may be less painful for you to just bend over and take it rather than talk about it first. But if you insist, we can talk before your caning, if that’s really what you want to do.”

“Well. . .” I stammered, “What if I don’t do what you say? Why should I let you cane me? That would hurt.”

“A lot,” she replied sternly. “Well, if you don’t, I guess I might as well not be home tonight. I’m not going to talk about this now. I think you know what this is about. If you want to talk, let’s have one of those talks you hate tonight at five, or just show up here naked like I said and we won’t have to talk. You have a few hours to think about it, and to get ready for your caning.

“But you are going to be caned,” she went on with a definitive tone. “I suggest you be careful in cutting the switch. Don’t make me go out and find a good one myself. Right now I am going to Michelle’s and we’re going together to see Suzanne, who just got out of the hospital. You can think about what you want to say about this, or just get ready for it.”

With that, she left me, dumbfounded.

How indeed was I going to play this? What was it all about?

I figured out that that was the key — determining what her game was.

Was this some sort of sexual fantasy she had and decided to boldly act on it? That was an intriguing thought, as her lack of an adventurous spirit when it came to sex was perhaps my chief frustration with Sarah.

Did she discover that it was a fantasy of mine?

But I wouldn’t even call it much of a fantasy. When I fantasized about sex, it was usually pretty conventional, if somewhat graphic. I got turned on by reading BDSM stories, but never thought about approaching Sarah about acting out those kinds of scenes, or looking for others to do them.

Still, she would have assumed it was a fetish I was drawn to had she probed my Literotica searches. Was she trying to reach out to me by fulfilling what she thought was my fantasy? Did she discover that we shared the same fantasy but had never communicated it with one another?

But maybe it wasn’t really all that sexual. Maybe she discovered my probing for possible affairs and decided this extreme form of corporal punishment would be her response?

Perhaps she had discovered both at once — a reason to punish me and to draw me closer by fulfilling my supposed fantasy?

Clearly, I could not be sure what this was about without talking.

And she had me on that point.

I really did hate talking about our problems or our relationship, because I always seemed to end up on the short end of those discussions, even when I was sure I was right.

Clearly, I wanted to avoid being confronted with my activities on the Internet. If she knew about them — well, she was right. I’d rather endure a caning than that conversation, as long as I didn’t have to endure both.

But what if this was just a sexual fantasy and she was taking a direct approach to making it happen?

There are times in life when realizations cause great anxiety, even fear. I felt that when a wave of fear went through me and lodged in the pit of my stomach. I admitted to myself that my cock stirred when she told me to be in the living room naked at a certain time. The obvious implication that some sexual situation would follow and the fact that she had ordered me to do it started to arouse me.

The paddle and the cane surprised me, scared me, and aroused me at the same time.

What would it be like to in reality submit to what had aroused me when I read those stories?

If I wasn’t careful, I could talk my way out of a good sexual fantasy come to life and replace it with one of those annoying relationship talks.

Was I rationalizing what I was doing? As I leaned more and more toward complying it was while I was outside with a sharp pocketknife looking through the branches of trees and bushes for something that would be suitable.

At what point in my thought process did I come outside and start looking? I didn’t even know. I seemed to justify the search by thinking I could process this all at the same time I was looking, but was that action a signal that I was looking for a justification for complying?

Most men would have told her off when the time came and demanded an explanation from her.

For whatever reason, I picked out a young branch from a Willow tree.

It tapered thin, as Willow does, but by cutting it off at its base at the trunk and about five feet in length, it retained the flexibility of Willow, but was still fairly thick and firm.

I took it back to my workshop, where I built my fishing rods, and sanded it down smooth. The top end had frayed a bit where I cut, but I lacquered the entire length, then wrapped some of the line I use for tying eyelets on rods around the end, securing it with the usual clear glue. I did the same on the thick end, wrapping a good eight inches of it in line, glued down, to make a fine handle.

There was plenty of time for it all to dry before Sarah returned.

She didn’t return much before 5. She did not greet me or make any references to her demands of that morning. She didn’t speak to me at all. Something told me she was as nervous as I was, perhaps afraid that I would confront her with her totally unreasonable demand.

But at 5 p.m., I walked into the living room nude, carrying the stool she ordered. She was sitting on the couch, and looked up from reading her magazine. I knew she was not really concentrating on it, instead focused on how I was about to react and perhaps wondering if she had overplayed her hand.

I placed the stool in the center of the room, where we had met some hours before, then returned to the bedroom.

When I came out, still nude, carrying the paddle and the cane I had made, she was standing by the stool, expressionless.

“Here is the paddle you asked me to find,” I said, handing it to her. “And I made this.”

I presented the cane, resting between my upturned open palms. She took it from me, her eyes widening and brightening.

“Wow!” she said, suddenly changing her demeanor and looking in amazement at what I had handed her.

“You made this?? I can’t believe it!” she said. “This is wonderful. You even finished it — and this is like a little handle,” she went on, wrapping her hand around the widely threaded end. She waved it in the air as if taking some practice swings, a smile broadening on her face.

I felt a knot in the pit of my stomach, not understanding why I had made such a nice rod for her. I stood there entirely naked in front of her, having presented her with what she had earlier that day referred to as the instrument of my torture, which I had been made to provide for myself.

Unless I did something to put a stop to this she was indeed going to torture me with it — for real.

“Why, this is just amazing,” she said, still turning the instrument over and over and examining it, as if I had given her a wonderful piece of jewelry for Christmas.

“Thank you for putting so much work into this!” she gushed.

Then, after a brief pause, it began.

“Well, Mark, it’s time,” she said.

Sarah put an arm lightly around my back and guided me a couple of steps to the other side of the stool, then gently pressed between my shoulder blades to guide me down over the padded top of the tall stool. She had me scoot forward a little and showed me how to place my feet right up against the insides of the two legs closest to me. Moving to the other side, she took my hands and pulled them down as far as my arms would reach.

“Now grab onto the legs here,” she said, placing my hands low down on the two legs on the opposite side. My body was stretched out, my butt high in the air, my cheeks and legs close together.

“Now, hold on real tight, and don’t let go until I tell you you can stand. That’s important,” she said, the sternness returning to her voice.

She walked around behind me.

“I’m going to warm you up good with the paddle first. That will make you even more sensitive for your caning,” she said, sounding like a dental hygienist explaining how she was going to floss her patient’s teeth.

“That will be hard enough on you, but that’s only the preliminary,” she went on. “You’re going to have to hold tight and concentrate on holding tight. Believe me, you don’t want to start acting out on me.”

I felt the rough edge of the paddle touch my right butt cheek. There were small, slightly raised bumps on the surface, designed to add friction for putting a spin on a ping pong ball. Those would add to the sting, I thought, the knot in my stomach getting tighter.

But at the same time, adopting this submissive attitude and the anticipation of what was about to take place, made my cock start to rise. I swallowed hard.


The first impact of the paddle came down on my right cheek, stinging even harder than I expected.

“Ow!!!” I exclaimed, and instinctively reached back to protect my ass.

“Don’t let go!” Sarah shouted. “That was nothing! You’re going to have to be a lot stronger than that!”

I grabbed the legs again.

“Now concentrate!”





The blows came slow, but hard, alternating between the cheeks, with the last landing between.

“Uh! Uh!” I grunted in pain, reacting to each blow.

“Just getting started with the warm-up,” Sarah said matter-of-factly.



I got two more, this time lower down on my butt. She was trying to cover the entire region, I could tell.

“Ok, hold on real tight, Mark. I’m going to start warming you up now.”

I though that’s what she had been doing.

Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap!

The blows came harder, and in rapid succession.

“Ahhhhh!” I screamed, but still managed to hold tight to the legs. My ass was already on fire and she was continuing to pour it on.

“Sarah! Stop! Stop! Pleaaaaase! No!”

Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap!

“Hold still!” she shouted, since I began to squirm, my feet starting to rise in the air, wanting to run.

Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap!

“Please! Noooooo!” I pleaded. I had begun to cry from the searing pain.

Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap!

I have no idea how many I took or how long it lasted, but I was crying like a baby when she stopped.

“Ok,” Sarah said calmly, ignoring my tears and the pleading she had just heard. “I think you are about the right color now.”

My ass must have been a very bright red by then.

Sarah knelt by my face and spoke softly into my ear.

“I know that was tough on you, but it’s going to get tougher. You have to concentrate hard on holding on. This will be over soon, but the rest is not going to be easy. But you can do it. Just hold on.”

I was still crying, and getting more and more afraid. I recalled again her words from earlier in the day: “You are to provide your own instrument of your torture.”

If this was going to get worse, it would be torture in the truest sense of the word. And I had handed her a well-made instrument I created to do it. I realized she had picked it up.

Whoosh! Whoosh!

The sounds of her practice swings made me whimper softly. I felt the length of the rod across my butt.

Whoosh! Crack!

“Ahhhhhhhhhhh!!!” I screamed and could not stop myself from standing up and reaching again to protect my sensitive, burning ass.

I didn’t get all the way up before being pushed back down.

“Get down!” she shouted.

Sarah again knelt by my face. Later, I realized I could have easily pushed her away and put a stop to the torture then and there as having gone too far. But at the time the thought did not cross my mind. That she was in total control seemed to be a reality I accepted as inevitable.

“Mark, you have got to hold on! Mark, you are going to be caned! It is going to happen! It is happening! The best you can do is to hold on and get through it! Now concentrate! You can do this! You were to get ten, but that stunt has now made it 12. Just don’t blow it and you will get through this.”

I was crying, nearly in a panic, but somehow convinced that she was right and all I could do was hold on. I grasped the legs as tightly as I could and gritted my teeth.





I stopped even hearing myself, but remember I was pleading for mercy.

The cuts of the cane did not come in rapid succession like the blows of the paddle. Each one was measured, deliberate, and carefully aimed, with time in between to anticipate the next.



I also lost all track of the count.

The pain was unbelievable. I would call it unendurable if I had not actually endured it.





“Ok, you’ve had your ten. Just a couple more to make up for you trying to get away. You’re almost there, Mark.”



I was crying harder than I have ever cried. Tears were dripping on the carpet, sweat rolling across my face.

“Ok, you can stand up now,” Sarah said. “Your caning is over, Mark. You did well.”

I slowly stood, and reached back to cup my butt cheeks in my palms to ease the pain. It did the opposite. I could not bear to touch myself there.

“Stand right there,” Sarah said, then walked away toward the hallway closet by the bathroom.

She came back with a towel and a handkerchief for me.

I dried my tears and blew my nose, and tried to calm down while she moved the stool away and spread the towel out in front of me, reaching from my feet to the newly positioned stool. Sarah sat on the stool.

She allowed me a few moments to compose myself.

Sarah was sitting calmly and confidently on the stool, a very slight smile on her lips. I was standing naked and crying, in incredible pain, but with my humiliation not yet over.

Sarah was looking down toward me, and I realized for the first time that despite it all I had a raging hard-on.

“Now, Mark,” Sarah said, nodding toward my penis, “I want you to take care of yourself.”

When I did not move, being puzzled, she repeated.

“Go on now, I want you to take care of yourself,” she nodded again toward my cock, not taking her eyes off of it. “Go ahead. Take your cock in your hand and finish yourself for me.”

She smiled a slight bit more, still gazing between my legs.

I realized she expected me to masturbate for her.

I had never done that in anyone’s presence. I was still sobbing a bit from the caning, but I reached down and started to stroke my erection.

“Don’t look at your cock!” Sarah ordered. “Just look at me. Don’t take your eyes off of me.”

She kept her eyes on my cock, except for the occasional glace up to make sure I was looking at her.

“Now, Mark, when you get close to finishing, and you know you’re going to come and can’t stop it, I want you to let go of your cock and drop your hands to your sides. Then just stand there and let your cock squirt on its own.”

She watched me stroke my cock, still with a slight smile on her face, seeming to enjoy the show, and as if the torture she had just administered to me had not happened.

I was in the position of the men in the femdom stories I had read, and I could not believe I was still aroused enough to masturbate for her, actually enjoying the fact that she seemed to enjoy watching.

“Uh! Uh!” I grunted as I felt it building.

When I reached the point of inevitability, I did what she had ordered. My hands dropped to my sides. A couple of seconds later, it started.

This is the story of someone’s death – a guy named Al. I liked Al, he was a great guy. Always busy with this or that and a lot of fun to be with. But he died a few years back. I know, I was there. Sure, people still see him around but now he’s known as “Linda’s Good Boy” or just “Good Boy” and is he is happier than he’s ever been. I should know, I’m am Good Boy

My ex-wife and I had been going back and forth for months about starting a female led relationship. We’d start and then it would stop. I thought we had closed the door the final time with a series of email and weeks without communication until I received an email from her. The email read:

If you want to serve me, you will come to my house tonight at 7. You will bring the box of toys. Let yourself in. There will be a bag and a note inside that bag. Follow those instructions and don’t be late. If you are not there by 7, I will lock the door and you will never see me again. Don’t worry about my daughter, she’s staying with a friend the next few days.

Her daughter was 11 and close in age to my own son, who was 10. When we were married they were the best of friends, but the time and distance of our separation had taken its toll on their relationship just like it had my relationship with Linda. We also had older kids. Her oldest daughter lived in Atlanta and probably hated me with every ounce of her being. She was spoiled and had a mean streak about her. In short, everything I wanted Linda to be. Her older son was away in the Air Force. My older kids had a so-so attitude toward Linda, but pretty much kept to themselves.

I wondered if I should go or not. It was Tuesday night and my usual writer’s group night. She knew that. Maybe she was forcing me to make a decision or perhaps she knew that this was one night I was free of obligations to others. Either way, I had a decision to make. On one hand, serving her meant giving up my current life. On the other hand, it meant pursuing a life that had consumed my thoughts for years – decades even. It had long been my desire to live as a submissive slave to a beautiful woman like Linda – to kneel before her, do her bidding and make sure she had a life of comfort and ease. I am not sure where these desires came from, only that they had been with me since a young age – maybe as young as 12 or 13. Every time I saw a woman in a dominant position on screen or in print, my heart melted. Problem was, I had so much going on, the reality of my life often conflicted with my desires and nothing could push me over – until that night with Linda. Yes, after careful consideration, I decided to go.

That evening came and despite having serious reservations about this (I didn’t want to lead Linda down a path again I was going to chicken out of), I got in my car at 6:30 and drove out to her place. I arrived early and drove around for a while considering my options. As much as I wanted to leave, to get out of there and never have to face this again – to go lead a “normal” life, I was drawn to her place and at 6:55 I let myself in.

I pushed open the door and immediately saw the plastic bag on the floor. I opened it, took out the note, and read it:

I am glad you decided to come my pet.

Take off your clothes and put them back into this bag. You will not be needing them. Take out the collar, put it on and attach the leash. Put the bag in the corner. When you are done, come upstairs, find me, and kneel beside me, holding up the leash handle. You are to keep your eyes down at all times.

I did as I was told. I took out the collar and leash, took off my clothes and put them in the bag. I put on the collar, attached the leash and stuck the bag of clothes in the corner. I then bowed my head and walked upstairs, a feeling of apprehension flooding my body. Despite part of me telling me it wasn’t too late to run away, I was drawn upstairs.

I got upstairs and saw Linda typing at the keyboard. I went to her side, kneeled, and held up the leash. She finished what she was doing and without a word, grabbed the leash handle and pulled me toward her bedroom with a firm yank. I followed on all fours. When we got into the bed room, she pulled me up on the bed. I looked up at her for further directions.

“Eyes down!”

I complied without a word.

She smacked my naked butt with her hands. “Yes, Ms. Linda! You will always answer me with ‘Yes, Ms. Linda’ unless we are out in public, then a ‘yes, dear’ would be fine. Is that understand?”

“Yes, Ms. Linda.” Another smack.

“Will you ever tell me no?”

I paused, not knowing what to say.

“Good boy. I never want to hear the words ‘no’ uttered from your lips. Understood?”

“Yes, Ms. Linda.”

She pushed my head down, walked over to her dresser and picked something up. I couldn’t see from my position, only hear the rattled of brushes and who-knows-what-else. Before long I felt a sharp thwack on my naked butt. I try to pull away, but she grab my hips and held firm. She hit me again – twice more, three times.

“I have been doing some research, talking to some Mistresses and I decided it was time for you to take your proper place at my feet.” another strike. Her blows seemed to be getting harder. “I am so pissed at the way you’ve been treating me lately – our whole time together.” More blows. “And if you want to be submissive, then you are going to do it right.” She hit me three more times before she let up. “Get on your knees.”

I got out of the bed and kneeled before her, fast, before she could land another blow. She grabbed my hair and pulled my head up. Our eyes met. “You have to understand that there is no going back for me. Will you serve me as your royal mistress?”

I paused, swallowed. “Yes, Ms. Linda.”

“Good, now get on your feet.”

I rose, my head bowed. I was naked and my cock stood at full attention, not unnoticed by Ms. Linda. She took my cock in her hands and started stroking it. She started licking my ear and whispered. “That turns you on to be my slave doesn’t it? To do as I command? To do my bidding?”

I answered with a meek, “yes, Ms. Linda.”

“That’s good, because that is going to be your life from now on. You are going to want to obey me. My will is now your command, my displeasure your disgrace. Understand?”

“Yes, Ms. Linda.”

“Now, be a good boy and go finish my dishes and clean the kitchen. I’ll be down in 30 minutes to inspect your work. Understand?”

“Yes, Ms. Linda.” And with those words, Al died, and Linda’s good boy was born.

To be continued…

I finished drying my hair with the towel, then wrapped it round my waist and stepped out of the bathroom into our bedroom. Standing before me, arms akimbo was my wife, Debra. She was dressed only in a black leather garter belt and black nylon stockings. The small auburn tuft of her pubic hair showed between the garter belt and her otherwise shaven pussy. “All clean?” she asked in an impatient tone.

Sensing her mood immediately; I answered, “Yes Mistress.” My eyes darted round the room quickly, as I tryed to surmise what she had planned. On the bed were two sets of wide, black leather cuffs and a black collar with stainless D rings attached. These were not a surprise in the slightest, as she preferred using cuffs to rope or steel for my bondage. What did catch my attention was the coffee table, which stood in front of the fire place of our Mistress suite. (I had been taught most explicitly never to refer to it as a Master suite.) The top of the coffee table was covered with a thick towel, yet I could see that the towel covered several items set on the tabletop. Exactly what these items were, I could not guess.

“Take off the silly towel and turn around,” ordered my wife; and I immediately obeyed. I removed the towel from round my waist and hung it on the towel rack in the bathroom and walked over to her. I turned my back and placed my wrists behind my back. Keeping my eyes straight ahead I felt Debra take my left wrist in her hand and methodically fasten a thick leather cuff round it. She worked unhurriedly, pulling the two straps tight then checking to make sure that circulation was not cut off. She took my right wrist and repeated the procedure, then clipped the two cuffs together with a harness clip. Now she took my upper arms and fastened leather cuffs to them, just above the elbows. I felt the compression of the leather on my flesh and knew what was coming next.

I rolled my shoulders a bit, trying to loosen them for I knew that I would not be moving them for some time to come. I quick swat on my ass with Debra’s hand and the command, “Hold still!” brought that to a rapid end.

I felt her moving behind me, and knew that she was threading a strap through the D rings of the upper arm cuffs. Then I felt her pull hard on the strap; pulling my elbows closer together and throwing my shoulders backward. Stepping in front of me she slipped the collar round my neck and fastened a small brass padlock to the built-in hasp. She stepped away to inspect me and I felt her eyes crawl up my body. I stood erect, arms behind me, head up and looking straight ahead, as she had taught me to do.

“Hmmph,” was all she said as she looked me up and down. Then she walked up to me and took my cock in her hand. “Already hard I see,” she commented. “You like being bound and helpless don’t you?”

“Yes Mistress,” I replied truthfully; my cock growing even harder as she held it in the palm of her hand.

“I can tell,” she said as she wrapped her fingers round my prick and gave it a loving squeeze. “But right now I don’t want you hard. So make it go soft.”

I looked at her with surprise. “Soft Mistress?” I queried.

“That’s right, make it soft,” she replied.

“But, but how can I with you doing that?” I stammered. Indeed her silk-soft palm was now languidly stroking up and down the length of my cock.

“Don’t question my orders, just obey them,” she growled. “Make it soft or I will find a way to make it soft; a way that you won’t like.”

I closed my eyes and tried to think of anything but sex, anything but my wife, anything but the hand stroking my prick. Baseball scores, calculus integrals, the names of all of the state capitals; but it all came back to that hand sliding back and forth on the shaft of my cock; those fingers stroking over the head. She knew exactly what she was doing to me. She had planned it. She knew that she was placing me in an impossible position. I prayed silently for my erection to dissipate, but knew that my prayer would go unanswered.

“Very well,” my Mistress intoned. “Since you are incapable of following simple orders, I will have to do it myself.” She opened her grip and held my erection in the palm of her hand, and then with a sudden movement, her left hand lifted and slapped down hard on my engorged cock.

“ARRRGGGG,” I cried as her fingers slapped down on my cock with a resounding SMACK. Twice more she lifted her hand and twice more the fingers struck the engorged flesh. The bright, hot, burning pain in my prick brought the results she had wanted. My cock deflated in an instant. I looked down to see it lying there in her palm, the skin reddened from the abuse, but the prick flaccid. I watched as she pulled back a corner of the towel which covered the coffee table, and she picked up a small black leather and steel contraption. I looked down to see what she held in her hands and my breath caught a bit at what she held. In her hand was a small wire cage, just 2 1/2 inches long and an inch in diameter. To it were attached two or three leather straps.. I recognized it for what it was, a cock cage. I understood now why she had wanted me soft. There was no way that my cock would fit in that cage when hard; and once caged there was no way for my cock to get hard.

She slid the metal cage over my now flaccid organ and pulled one of the straps round the base of my sac. She pulled it tight and snapped a brass padlock in place. The cage was now locked and even had I had my hands free there was no way for me to remove it. Then she wrapped a second strap tightly round the base of my cock and snapped that in place. Now no matter what she did to me that night, there was no way I was going do get fully hard, and certainly no way I was ever going to cum until she released my cock from its bondage.

“Lie down on the floor in front of the table, face up,” ordered my Mistress. I walked over to the area between the table and the fireplace and awkwardly knelt on the rug. It was hard to get up and down with my arms so tightly bound behind my back but I managed to get down on both knees. I straightened one leg and then the other and sat down on my bottom, then brought my knees up to my chest and did a reverse crunch to each myself to a supine position. The position was difficult and a bit uncomfortable with my arms bound behind my back but do-able.

Debra walked over and looked down at me, then she went to the book shelf and took down a small dark carved wooden stand. The top of the stand was slightly concave and stood some 4 or 5 inches above the base. I knew what it was of course, an antique Japanese wooden pillow. Geisha were trained to use these stands as pillows to keep there elaborate hairdos from touching the ground. We had acquired it as an object d’art after seeing “Memoirs of a Geisha” but it had never figured into our play. Lifting my head with her hands she slid the pillow under my neck. The effect was to lift my head several inches higher, but to keep my head horizontal. “There,” she said, “That should do it”. I had no idea what her intentions were or why she wanted my head in such a position but apparently she had her reasons.

Next, Debra walked over to the table and removed the towel from the top. I looked over to the table from my position on the floor and could make out some of the paraphernalia through the thick glass top of the table. One object there took away my breath. Lying on the table among the leather straps, gags and clips was a long steel rod, some 3 ft in length, topped with a lifelike dark brown cock vibe. More than once I had stood on the “Impaler” legs fastened into steel cuffs with that 8″ long dong buried in my asshole. How well did I know the feeling of standing helpless, squirming, trying not to cum without permission as the faux cock wiggled and vibrated inside me; my wife watching and laughing at my struggles.

Kicking my legs apart slightly my wife picked up the rod with deliberate slowness and lay it between my legs. She slid it upward until the tip touched my sphincter and then pressed insistently. I willed my rosebud to relax; knowing that resisting the penetration would only make things worse. With slow steady pressure she slid the vast dong into my depths until I was completely filled. I took a few deep breaths to adjust to the feeling of having my rectum filled and then tried to relax.

Taking two leather straps from the table top, Mistress bound my legs together just above the knees and at the ankles, entrapping the rod of the impaler between my legs and thus guaranteeing that I could not straighten my legs. “Just a few more touches my pet, then we begin in earnest.” I wondered what more she could do to me. My arms and legs were completely immobile, my body straight, my cock caged to prevent me getting an effective hard on and my ass filled with a huge dong. The answer wasn’t long in coming however. My ever-inventive Mistress had a few more tricks up her sleeve before “beginning in earnest.”

First she filled my remaining orifice with a large cock gag. I nearly gagged as she slid the thick fake cock into my mouth and strapped it in place. Now all I could do was mumble round the gag. I knew this gag and dreaded it. It was more than a gag. Like the vibrator of the impaler, the damn thing was motorized. It twisted and turned slowly when activated. Growing first longer and then shorter by about and inch as some internal, un-stoppable mechanism whirled inside it. I knew that I was in for a long night of both mouth and asshole getting fucked mechanically I watched as she reached down and pinched my nipples with her fingers and then places a vibrating clamp onto each nipple. I felt the clamps bite into the flesh of my nipples and closed my eyes against the familiar pain. My body tingled with anticipation as finally she slipped a vibrating cock ring round the base of my cock.

Taking a moment to admire her handiwork Mistress looked down on me. Then she did something very surprising. She slid the coffee table over to cover me; this I had never expected. Now I understood the reason for the pillow. My face was now just an inch from the bottom of the thick glass tabletop. It was as if I was part of the table. Like those coffee tables you see that have glass tops and sides with objects displayed inside them. I had seen them in catalogs, dried plants and stuffed pheasants. Only I was the display; bound and helpless, unable to move. As still as those pheasants and certainly stuffed. I was to be on display in a glass case as the diabolical vibrations and gyrations in mouth and ass, on bound cock and nipples kept me excited but immobile. I looked at Mistress with pleading eyes. And she looked down at me. “You understand don’t you?” she asked. I nodded slowly by way of reply. “I have been plotting this for a while; waiting for the right time to do this. Do you know what I have planned now?” I shook my head back and forth as I wondered what she meant by that question.

She went on, “Well I thought of several ideas as to what to do from here. I thought maybe I’d invite the girls over for a little cock tail party.”

My eyes grew wide at the thought of her girl friends seeing me like this and I mumbled, “Nooooo,” around the gag.

“I think they would get a real kick out of watching the big exec helplessly squirming with his cock all locked up and all his holes filled.” She laughed as she said, “Maybe they’d even call over their husbands to watch.”

My cheeks flushed a deep red at the thought of my neighbors seeing me like this. The guys I golfed with and played poker with. The guys I shot the shit with round the neighborhood pool as we drank beers and watched the neighborhood women.

“You know I’d love to watch you suck on a real dick,” she continued. “I know the girls would get so hot watching you that they’d be able to talk their hubbys into fucking your mouth for real.”

At this comments I started to shake my head violently as I mumbled, “Nooo, Nooo, Pwease Noo,” around the gag.

“No? You don’t want to be the neighborhood cocksucker?” she asked sarcastically. Again I shook my head, my face blushed a deep crimson. Debra replied, “Very well, we’ll save that for a later time. For tonight we will keep it just you and me. But you have to be very good or I will call over the girls. Is that clear?” With relieve in my face I nodded enthusiastically.

“Good,” she said, “then lets just see what happens and how good you can be.” And with that she reached down and turned on the nipple clamps. My nipples are nearly as sensitive as a woman’s and, as the vibrations started, I felt a kind of electric shock though my whole body. I felt the combination of the wonderful tingling vibrations with the sharp pain of the clamps and closed my eyes to concentrate on sorting out the mixed sensations. Immediately I closed my eyes, Debra turned on the cockring. I could feel its vibrations against the base of my cock, familiar to me from many sessions before. Usually the effect was almost immediate. The tingling teasing vibrations from cock and nipples would normally have me hard in less than a minute. But with the cock cage in place erection was impossible. No one had told that to my cock however. I sensed it start to be come turgid, to press and strain against the confining cage.

“Gawd,” I moaned round the gag in frustration. Unable to remain soft, and unable to get hard, my cock twitched and strained against the steel cage. Worst of all, as the cockring lay against the cock cage, its vibrations were transmitted to the cage itself. Now the vibe was not just against the base, but the whole of the cock was shaking and tingling as my prick pressed against it.

With a laugh at my predicament Mistress picked up two remote controls. She turned the dial on one of the remotes and the dong inside my ass came alive. It began a deep low pitched heavy vibration which I felt against my prostate and into my whole pelvis. At the same time it began to wiggle and squirm inside me. It had some kind of hard curved core that slowly turned round and round, moving the tip of the vibe in a circle inside me the tip rubbing against my insides as it rotated. At the same time I could feel the damn thing start to lengthen and contract. The already huge faux penis was fucking me but without moving in and out of my sphincter. It was a strange, sort of sensation, not like when Mistress took me with her strap on, but instead as if the cock was alive and rooting round inside me. With a turn of the dial on the last remote I felt the gag start to move. It too started to root inside my mouth, twisting, wiggling and thrusting all at the same time. It thrust deep into me mouth and I had no way to resist. It was tightly strapped in place, spitting it out was impossible had I wanted to. And to spit it out would have earned the wrath of my Mistress. I lay there, tightly bound, my mouth and ass getting fucked, my cock straining against the cage, nipples tingling from the vibrations and at the same time burning from the clamps. I looked up through the glass of my display case and watched as my wife smiled.

I watched as she sat herself down on the top of the table. Looking up through the glass I could see her pussy just an inch away from my eyes through the glass and I realized the terrible cruelty of the glass table. I could see her pussy, but never reach it. I would stay there all night if she wanted, getting stimulated without recourse, without even being able to get fully hard let alone to cum. And she would watch me struggle and strain and sweat and eventually probably cry to get some relief. And I would have to watch her, laugh and smile and enjoy my predicament for as long as she desired. An involuntary spasm shook my whole body as I lay there. The consequence of too many conflicting sensation I knew. It was the first, but would not be the last. I had had them before, when on the impaler, as she teased my cock with hand and mouth and breasts. A mild twitching was how it started. But by the end, I suspected, I would be shaking like an aspen leaf in a strong wind.

She noticed the spasm and nodded and smiled. Then everything got worse. I watched as my Wife closed her eyes in though and slowly reached up with her right hand to start to stroke the finger tips round her areola. Her lips parted and she licked them briefly with her tongue as her breathing pattern changed. I mewed in helplessness as I watched. Her fingers now stroking round and round the melon of her breast and her left hand reached down to gently stroke her labia.

One inch from my face I had to watch as she spread her labia wider and her fingers began to dance along their length. As I lay there under her, helplessly being teased in mouth and ass, on cock and nipples, I saw her spread her legs to either side of the table and open her pussy wider. I watched in wonder as her labia pressed against the glass of the table top. Just above my face. And I saw the first drop of her nectar fall onto the surface of the table. Now both hands were on her pussy, four fingers stroking upward from the entrance of her pussy to her clit. Long fingers pulling back to expose the head of her button and the tips of her index fingers flicking it up and down. The odor of her nectar now filled the room and my cock strained harder against its restraint. My body spasmed again as I watched, my mind reeling.

Suddenly she drove two fingers of her left hand into her cunt and started to finger fuck herself. Her right hand continued to stroke her clit, stroking round and round it now and as her body shook with its first orgasm, mine strained and fought against the restraints wanting so much to be a part of her coming. To be fucking her cunt or at least eating it as she came, rather than have to watch in frustration as she peaked. Both our bodies spasmed together, hers in ecstasy, mine in frustration as the vibrations in my cock and nipples increased.

She had turned up the vibes!! Even as she came, she had turned up the vibes a notch!! “Gawd, what was I in for tonight” I wondered.

I saw her lean forward and smile down at me through the table. “Enjoy the show?” she asked. I nodded slowly in response. A wicked grin told me that this was not to be a one act play and I saw her turn round quickly on the table and lay down on it face down. Her face was now suspended above mine and I could do nothing but watch as she lowered her head. Above me on the top of the glass were drops of her nectar and I looked on, wide eyed as she lowered her lips to the glass and licked up her own juices from the glass. Her tongue licked her lips lasciviously and she said. “I know you want a taste. But not yet. If you are good all night long I will give you a taste later. But for now it’s all mine.”

Now she rolled onto her side, her large full breasts hanging down a bit, the lower one on the table as she reached over to pick up something. A bottle of oil I realized. She squirted a bit into the palm of her hand and started to rub the oil over the surface of her tits. I stared as the skin of her breasts began to shine and glisten from the oil. “They feel all tingly right now, just after a cum. I’m sure that yours do too don’t they?” she asked. And I nodded silently in agreement. She smiled. “Oh the oil feels so good on them.” and with that she rolled over prone once again. Now her well oiled breasts were pressed to the glass and I watched as she began to wiggle on the table. She moved her body in circles and her nipples and breasts moved with her. Like that girl in “Cool Hand Luke” who was washing the car, teasing the convicts with her tits pressed tightly to the car windows; my Mistress teased me. My breath was ragged now as I watched, the delicious titflesh pressed to the glass just in front of my face. And like the girl in the movie she knew exactly the effect she was having on me. My own nipples tingled and ached as I watched.

I was on my knees between the plastic blow up doll’s legs humping away as my wife and her new found friends Gloria and Barry lay on the bed naked, half drunk from the bottle of wine and exhausted from their marathon sex session laughing as I entertained them by putting on this show. As I humped away knowing that I was going to cum any second, I thought back to how this had all started.

My wife Pattie and I have talked about, and flirted with the idea of cuckolding for quite awhile. We had one rather pleasing experience with another male, but he was from out of town and haven’t had much luck of late. That is until Pattie told me about her friend Gloria that works with her. She told me that although she and Gloria have minimal contact at work and even work in different buildings, they chat occasionally about things outside the office mostly via text. Gloria began texting Pattie and asking her if she and I had every ‘played around’ with another couple. Pattie said that we had played around but not with another couple, with another man. She told Gloria about cuckolding and she seemed intrigued.

Their texts flew back and forth for a month or more and finally Pattie was getting frustrated because she couldn’t quite figure out what Gloria and her husband Barry were after. Gloria had ‘alluded’ to Pattie that they had met another man or were going to a swingers club etc. Finally, frustrated Pattie decided to be blunt and take the first step. She told Gloria that their texts had her dripping with excitement and that she would love to get together with them with me her cuckold husband present and serving in ‘any capacity the three of us deem necessary’ to which Gloria texted back, ‘Let’s do it!’

And so that was it. Pattie knew that I would do anything for her without question. She knew that my first wife had left me for her lover and that when we started dating shortly thereafter I confessed to her my cuckold yearning, leanings and desires. Our relationship changed once we were married and Pattie took over everything including the checkbook, who did what around the house (I was assigned to do all the shopping, cooing, cleaning, yard work, laundry, and housework, while Pattie was in charge of the checkbook) and who I could associate with and when. Around the house I became her slave period. I was usually dressed in pantyhose and always work a CB-3000 chastity device except when she would grant me a ‘release’ after having been especially good or had pleased her in some way. The release consisted of her taking the device off and barely touching the head of my cock while I jerked frantically to cum. Once I had shot my load, she would make me lick ever drop clean and then put the dreaded device back on.

The control of a chastity device as any cuckold knows is amazing. When you’re in it, you’re constantly reminded of why you’re in it and how badly you want to be released. Once released you’ll do virtually anything to cum and knowing this and exploiting it, Pattie has total control over me and anything I do. I’ve been required to kneel and lick her pussy for hours on end while she watches television or suck on her toes and give her a pedicure while she surfs cuckolding sites and reads cuckolding stories to me aloud. In short, I have become not only her cuckold husband but her slave, confidant, lover and boywife as she likes to call me.

Pattie came home a few weeks back and told me about her and Gloria and their texting. I was extremely intrigued and aroused. She told me that she thought it would be hot for the four of us to get together with me serving them and how did I feel about that. I replied that if it would make her happy I was more than willing to do whatever she wished. That night in bed as I licked her to orgasm she told me how she envisioned her and Gloria making out with each other while Barry watched and I got him hard and ready for the two of them. She told of how after Barry had fucked them both silly and cum inside their pussies that I would be required to lick all three of them clean and wait on them hand and foot. She went on and on with variations from me licking her ass while Barry fucked her to me performing all sorts of humiliating acts all the while locked in my chastity device.

I wasn’t allowed to cum that night or the next or even the next, but had to wait a full month before I was released and allowed to cum. That night was pure heaven as I confessed to her that after being locked up for so long I would do anything she wanted. She took advantage of my excitement by making me confess my deepest darkest secrets and desires of what would take place when we got together with Gloria and Barry. I confessed how I wanted to lick Pattie’s ass while Barry fucked her, how I wanted to suck his cock, how I craved humiliation from the three of them and went into detail. I confessed how I’d like to be dressed in a pink leotard with a ruffle around the waist wearing pantyhose with my device on while I served them. How I thought it would be hot if they sent me to get ice down the hall in the hotel dressed in that outfit and how I loved the thought of the three of them making a game of humiliating me and making me serve them. Like a sinner in a confessional, by the time I shot my load and lay there spent after having licked up all my own cum I had confessed every deep dark desire I had. Pattie merely smiled and said, “This is going to be fun!”

Gloria and she continued to text each other and I was never privy to the content of the texts only knowing that they made my wife extremely wet as I licked her to orgasm each night. One night she let it slip that Barry had begun texting her too and that she told both he and Gloria of our experiences, desires and to my embarrassment, amazement and astonishment had relayed my long ‘confession’ to them. But what could I do? I was locked in chastity, a man with no financial means (the checking and savings accounts were all in her name and my check was directly deposited) and no way to escape even if I had wanted to; which I had no desire to do.

A month ago on a Friday afternoon I was out cutting the lawn and getting ready to finish laundry when my cell phone buzzed with a text message from Pattie. It read simply, “FedEx coming with a package. Open it, read the enclosed instructions and be ready when I get home at seven.” I trembled with excitement for the last time a package had arrived it had contained my chastity device which began the pain/pleasure road trip we were still on. Like clockwork the FedEx truck pulled up and the driver handed me a package which I signed for and immediately took into the house opening as I went. Inside was a manila envelope with a single typed page:

To my little boywife…take a shower, make sure you’re clean shaven from head to toe, then put this outfit on and wait for me and our guests to get there…champagne would be nice…

I tore the rest of the package and stared in disbelief. There in the cardboard box was a pink leotard with a pink and white ruffle around the waist, a pair of pink crotch less tights and a pair of pink ballerina slippers. My heart sank! Could she possibly be serious? Did she really expect that I would wear this in front of Gloria and Barry? I mean I know I had confessed it to her, but I never thought she would take it to this height. And so here I stood at a crossroads from which I knew I would or could ever turn back. Before I knew it I was in the shower and had shaved my body as instructed. Looking at myself in the mirror I smiled and blushed. Here I stood shaved head to toe with a chastity device on dressed in the pink ballerina outfit, tights and slippers. It was exactly as I had confessed it to her that night. It was surreal and yet I found myself moving through the surreal scene and putting a bottle of champagne on ice.

I busied myself making some hors d’oeuvres for our guests’ enjoyment. At seven o’clock on the dot the front door opened and in walked Pattie followed by Gloria and Barry. Although I had never met them in person I could tell this was them by the descriptions she had provided to me. It appeared they had all been drinking quite a bit. Gloria was a tall brunette, wide in the hips, with very large breasts and firm thick thighs. She wore a tight, short black mini dress made of Lycra that had a plunging neckline that accentuated her great cleavage. She wore red heels to match and from what I could tell wasn’t wearing any stockings or panties. Barry was exactly as Pattie had described him. He looked a bit like the actor Jason Statham and had an earring in his ear and wore a pair of dress pants and a loose shirt. The three of them sauntered into the living room and stood there staring at me. The moment seemed to go on for hours. The silence and tension was building.

Finally Gloria put her hand over her mouth and burst out laughing. As if on cue, Pattie and Barry chimed in. “Oh my God” Gloria said, slapping her leg. “I know you’ve told us all about him and the control you have over him but actually coming here and seeing him in person dressed like this is a riot!”

I stood there, my face burning a crimson red in my embarrassment. I simply curtsied and said, “I have chilled champagne if anyone would like some and some scallops wrapped in bacon.” I could feel my little cock growing inside its cage and desperately wanted this evening to go as Pattie had planned it. Pattie walked over to me and kissed me full on the lips, then reached down and grabbed by cock and lifted the hem of my ruffled outfit. “See I told you both I have him locked in chastity and it has its desired effects as you can tell. Yes, my little boywife, champagne and scallops wrapped in bacon sounds divine. We’ll have them in the living room.” I curtsied and made my way to the kitchen as they retired chuckling and talking to the living room.

When I returned with the tray the three of them were sitting on the couch. Barry was in the middle and Pattie was on his left with Gloria on his right. I gingerly set the tray down and gave each of them a glass of champagne followed by presenting them with the scallops. The three of them obviously didn’t need any more alcohol, but the all clinked their glasses and downed them laughing and hugging each other. Pattie motioned and I immediately knelt and began massaging her feet. Gloria and Barry laughed at this too commenting on how well Pattie had me trained.

Soon the three of them were making out like high school kids on a date. Hands and lips were roaming all over each other as clothes came off in a frenzied pace. Soon Gloria and Pattie were totally naked and Barry was naked from the waist up. They stopped their interaction for a moment and Pattie motioned to me and said, “I think you should take Barry’s pants off and let us see what we’re in store for.” I knelt up and undid the belt buckle on Barry’s pants and gently slid his slacks down his legs and threw them aside, gaping at his gorgeous semi erect cock that must have been at least seven inches even in that state.

Pattie took his cock in her hand, her pink fingernails shining in the candle light and stroked it slowly as I knelt there like a dog waiting for a bone. She had this evil smile on her face as she squeezed it and a drop of glistening precum oozed from the tip. “Go ahead, I know you want it. Lick it like a good boywife should and get it nice and hard for us.” Without saying a work I obediently obeyed and licked Barry’s cock while she held it in her hands feeding it to me. I was again lost in the surreal world of it all and lapped and sucked his cock with a fierce abandon. Every now and then I would glance up and see the three of them kissing and licking and sucking each other in various ways. I could feel Barry growing harder and thicker in my mouth and could taste the ever present salty taste of his precum.

All at once Pattie pushed me out of the way, stood up and straddle Barry’s cock. I watched it sink deep into her already soaked pussy. She spread her cheeks and I knew what that meant and began licking her ass immediately. Gloria sucked on Pattie’s nipples and played with her tits as Barry fucked her hard while all the while I knelt licking her ass and his balls. He was pounding her like I never could; her arms wrapped around his neck as she rode his cock and screamed she was going to cum. In that instant Barry shouted he was cumming to as I watched their bodies tense with the intense orgasm each was experiencing. They both lurched and bucked into each other until I heard a little laugh escape from Pattie and she blew out a large breath. “Phew, THAT was something I have been waiting for!”

She raised her leg and took her place back next to Barry on the couch. I knelt there gazing at his cock as if hypnotized. I had never seen a cock so big up close and covered in cum and my wife pussy juice. It was now Barry who addressed me, “Go ahead and show us what a good little boywife you are and clean my cock up and your wife’s pussy.” It wasn’t an invitation but rather and order and an order I knew I’d follow no matter what. I dropped my head onto his lap and licked and sucked their juices clean from his cock while the three of them patted me on the head and talked about how hot that was. I then moved on to Pattie’s pussy and licked her clean while they continued to revel in their post orgasm chat. Barry said he would be ready to go again in a few minutes something that had greatly impressed Pattie as she had told me earlier and I knew what that meant.

Gloria motioned for me to come to her with the crook of her index finger, and I crawled between her legs and began to lick her without having to be told. I licked and sucked and lapped at her pussy for a good thirty minutes while Barry and Pattie made out like teenagers in their post coital lust. As I licked Gloria I see Barry’s cock getting hard again out of the corner of my eye. Pretty soon he was at full mast and now it was Gloria who pushed me aside and mounted her husband’s cock. Pattie and Barry continued to make out as he fucked Gloria and I knelt and licked her ass and his balls just as I had done when he fucked Pattie.

Since that fateful night we’ve met at their home and in hotels where I’ve had the humiliating pleasure of checking the four of us into a single room while Barry, Gloria and Pattie stand behind me with their arms around each other making out. I get some strange looks from hotel clerks but love it all the same. One night in the midst of their fucking and sucking in a hotel room they sent me dressed in my humiliating outfit down the hall for ice. We didn’t need ice, but I knew the method behind their madness.

It’s similar to the situation I find myself in now. Barry and Gloria bought a present for me last week. It was a plastic blow up doll like you see in the sex stores. And after the three of them had finished and they knew how incredibly insatiably horny I was, they let me out of my device and ordered me to ‘make love’ to the doll whilst they lay on the bed tangled in their embrace laughing and jeering and goading me on. I humped away as Barry yelled, ‘kiss her!’ followed by Patties, ‘squeeze her tits’ and Gloria’s ‘lick her pussy’ to which I had to obey each command as they shouted it. Until, finally I was allowed to cum inside the doll and then lick it clean. I think we’ve found a couple we’re going to be friends with for a long time to cum!

Kneeling on the floor, the lock on m chastity device making a clicking sound as it bounced playfully off my plastic prison device, watching my beautiful wife drift in and out of consciousness as I massaged her feet with lotion I wondered what made men do what they do. And as I contemplated this I realized that it comes down to a moment. A moment is all it takes. The moment in which you decide to jump off the cliff or stay on the relative safety of the canyon’s edge are the moments which define our lives.

There’s the moment before something happens, the should I and what ifs, and then there’s the moments after it happens when you look back and wonder why you took the road you did. And then there is the moment itself. The moment in which you make choices and decisions which bring you to where you are now and define where you will go from here.

Women live less in the moment then men and they make their decisions based on the long haul and the big picture. But men, we change by the moment. What does this have to do with me kneeling where I’m kneeling doing what I’m doing and cuckolding? It’s simple, I made a decision in a moment and now, for better of worse I live with it.

My wife Amber had always been fairly dominant over me. A bit strange because albeit being 10 year s younger and making much less money than me, and having only a high school education as opposed to my Master’s degree and six figure salary she exuded a confidence and dominance I hadn’t seen in women twice her age.

We met in of all places a Dunkin’ Donuts where I would stop every morning to get my coffee before going to my job as a lawyer. Amber is 5’2″ but always wears heels to make her look around 5’7″. She has deep brown eyes, and long, natural dark brown hair, but one of her best features has to be her 40 EE all natural breasts. She has marvelous wide hips and thighs and wears a size 7 thong or panty but most of the time she goes without them under her extra large tight fitting dresses. She is fully shaved and loves the feeling of it when she goes without panties. In short, she is a thick thighed, wide hipped, big busted goddess and I love her.

Each morning she would greet me with a knockout smile as she served me coffee, flashing her cleavage. It seemed the more she saw me staring at her cleavage the lower her shirt was the next day and the bigger her tip was. I made it known that I was single and well off. It didn’t take long before I came up with the nerve to ask her on a date and things moved fast after that. We dated for three months getting to know each other more and more. You could say we had typical new couple ‘vanilla’ sex during that time.

And then one night as we lay on a blanket in front of a fire in my luxurious townhouse, both of us in the afterglow of sex Amber whispered to me. “Honey I want you to tell me your deepest, darkest desires. I want to know what makes you tick. We’ve known each other for only a short time, but I feel as if we’ve been soul mates forever.” With that she reached down and began slowly caressing my balls and cock. In that moment, all my defenses faded away and my inhibitions went out the window. Like a sinner confessing his sins, I closed my eyes and confessed to her. I told her all of my dirty little secrets and desires. I laid my soul bare to her as she caressed my cock and balls into full erection. The harder I became, the more I opened up and confessed and in that moment right before I was ready to cum I blurted out my deepest secret of all. I told how I had longed all my life to be dominated, cuckolded and controlled by a big breasted rubenesque woman.

Two weeks later Amber called me at work crying saying that she was being evicted from her apartment and had nowhere to stay. She was sobbing hysterically and said that she was thinking of just packing up and moving away. Although I was right in the middle of a big case, I dropped everything and rushed over to her tiny one room studio apartment. I calmed her down and told her not to worry that she could move in with me. Her tears stopped and I saw that bright beautiful smile that made my cock twitch.

Our relationship flourished after that. We became inseparable after that and the sex got even better. Six months passed and I was utterly and completely in love. One night as we sat having dinner with Amber wearing a very low cut top and no bra, the candle light accentuating her gorgeous features, she told me she wanted to talk to me about something.

“Baby, you’ve been great to me these past few months and I really appreciate everything you’ve done and I will never forget that. But I really feel like a freeloader here. I feel like you could just kick me to the curb at a moments notice and I’d be right back where I started.” A tear welled up in her eye.

“Oh Amber, you know I would never do that”

“Shhh, let me finish,” Amber said, wiping the tear away and clearing her throat.

“I want to know that the man I’m in love with is just as deeply in love with me as I am with him. I want to know that we share the same feelings and desires and want to continue to deepen our love. But right now I feel like some cheap piece of trash. Maybe I should just move back to the west coast with my sister and get a job there.”

My heart sank. I was like a pirate watching a buried treasure slip away through his fingers only to be lost to the sea forever. In that moment I knew what I had to do. Slowly, I rose from the table, walked to Amber’s chair and knelt in front of her. She patted my head like a dog’s owner pats their pets head to keep him loyal. And before I knew it, the words were out of my mouth. “Marry me.” I said, blurting it out and taking her hands in mine.

She leaned forward and drew my head to her breasts. “Oh baby, are you serious? Are you sure? I mean I don’t want you to think I’m threatening you or trying to trap you. I want you to be 100% sure this is what you want.” In that moment, with my head buried against her magnificent breasts the scent of Calvin Klein’s Obsession, her favorite perfume, wafting into my nostrils I was a dead man. Hypnotized by all that’s holy and sacred in the human condition, in a word I was hooked.

“No Amber, I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in this world. These past few months have been the most erotic and exciting of my life. It’s as if I’ve found the one thing in my life that I have been missing all this time. You’re beautiful, erotic, exotic, exciting, and I love you with all my heart and soul and want you to be my wife.”

She took my face in her hands and gently kissed me on the lips, her tongue probing my mouth finding mine. She stood and led me to the bedroom where we enjoyed the best night of sex I’ve ever had. As we lay there with moonlight streaming through the window, the shadows dancing off her gorgeous body, she asked me about a ring. I promised I would have a special surprise tomorrow night for her at dinner.

The next night at dinner, I again knelt by my lovely wife to be and presented her with a tiny aqua colored box. Again tears welled in her eyes as she took the box from my hand and looked deep into my eyes. She was stunning in her black, low scooped neck dress with her breasts cascading out the top and her gorgeous tan legs and thighs, smooth and sexy enticing me. She took the box from me and unwrapped the tiny white ribbon, opened the box to reveal a 3 carat princess shaped Tiffany diamond that had set me back almost fifty thousand dollars.

“Amber, my love,” I said, taking her hands in mine. “I want you to be my wife. To share in my love and my life, I want you to be the only woman in my life forever and ever. Please marry me.”

In that moment our fate was sealed. Amber cried, hugged me and accepted my engagement ring. As we sat enjoying a glass of champagne she went to the other room and came back with some papers. It was a pre-nuptial agreement. She told me that she wanted our life together to be perfect and that she was prepared to make it so. She said that after the night I had made my wild confession to her she had been giving it a lot of thought and wanted our life together to be perfect for both of us and make sure that we both got what we wanted.

She told me she’d marry me on three conditions which were as she read from the paper the following:

1.We were to stay married for better or worse forever. Which meant that if I divorced her I would forfeit all past, present, and future marital assets to her completely. This would virtually leave me penniless and homeless for the rest of my life.

2.She would be in charge of all marital decisions period. This would include how the marital assets were spent, where we went, what we did, who we associated with, right down to what I wore and where I worked.

3.I would remain faithful to her, but she on the other hand was free to pursue other relationships outside the marriage.

She slid the paper across the table and I read it in my most lawyerly fashion. The language of the agreement was clear, concise and in all aspects a legal binding document. As I read the agreement, Amber stood up and walked behind me and stood there, her perfume strong on my olfactory senses posing an almost hypnotic air. Her long fingernails began caressing my neck and shoulders sending shivers down my spine.

“Baby, I know this is what you want. What you need. What we both need. Our lives could change dramatically and we can both be partners from now till eternity. I know what you want and need and I can provide it. And you know what I want and need and you can provide it. We’re a perfect match for each other. I feel like I was sent to you knowing your needs, and I know that I was sent to fulfill that need.” Her hands were rubbing my shoulders now making her way down towards my nipples, and as soon as she reached beneath my shirt and I felt her nail drag across my nipples shock waves raced up and down my spine even more.

In that moment ever rational, sane, logical thought, feeling and emotion left my body. It was as if I was in a trance and under her spell. Before I knew it she has slipped a pen into my quivering hand and I signed the agreement. That was it, my fate was sealed, and our fate was sealed.

Things progressed quickly after a fancy wedding and whirlwind honeymoon cruise to Europe. Once back at home, Amber asserted her dominance over me more and more on a daily basis. I became the de facto housewife, maid, cook, breadwinner in the household. I would spend my days at the law practice supervising a cadre of underlings and making high powered decisions only to come home and have all that responsibility taken away by Amber.

I was always provided with a list when I walked in the door if Amber wasn’t home which most of the time she wasn’t. I would be instructed to change into my ‘outfit’ as Amber liked to call it which was not the typical French maid’s outfit that everyone somehow associates submissive men wearing. Amber however, thinks as I do that that particular outfit is so cliché it’s not even funny. So Amber came up with what we believe is the perfect outfit that is workable and yet shows my position. I am totally shaved from head to toe at Amber’s insistence. My outfit consists of my CB3000 chastity device always being in place, a short denim mini skirt that is so short it shows the tip of my chastity device, a pair of plain, flat soled cheap white sneakers, and a pink tie dye t-shirt that says ‘cuckolded…and loving it’ across the front in big bold letters.

The outfit is comfortable enough for me to do all my chores in and at the same time there is never any doubt in anyone’s mind that Amber is in charge. Sometimes when she’s in a very playful mood Amber will do variations on the theme. A dog collar and leash have been added at times as I lick her pussy, earrings and lipstick on other occasions, and if she’s feeling very cruel I’m forced into six inch high heels which kill my feet! But it’s all about Amber and what she wants.

Most nights upon returning home and changing into my outfit, reading my list, and completing all my chores, I start dinner and have it on the table at precisely 7:30 whether Amber was home or not. Some nights she would be there and others I would sit at the long, candlelit table alone and eat dinner by myself. Nights when Amber did come home, she would regale me with the details of her day.

Sometimes it would about her shopping trips or visits to friends and other times it would be about trysts with her lovers. Oh yes, I forgot to mention Amber has taken on a lover since about a week after we returned from our honeymoon. His name is Jonathan and although I’ve never met him, I feel as if I know him intimately. I do his laundry, clean his condo, run his errands, wash his car and motorcycle, oh yes and most importantly clean his cum from Amber’s pussy, but have yet to see his face or meet him. Amber thinks its best that way. She says keeping him in the dark in the background will only add to his mystery and lead to more excitement for me. I guess she’s right.

The other night after dinner as I knelt between Amber’s legs licking her pussy while she at my freshly made crème brulee she raved about he day with Jonathon.

`”Baby, we had so much fun today. I know that it makes you hard inside your little cage when I talk about Jonathan and the things that he does to me. After our trip to the mall today where I bought some pretty hot outfits at Victoria’s Secret which I might model for you later if you’re a good boy, we went to his place and oh my God did we have fun! His cock is so big that it does take some getting used to but once I’m nice and wet for him he fills me up so nicely. Oh and baby when he cums, he cums buckets! Well it least if feels like he cums buckets, does it taste like that much?”

“Mmmph” was all I could mutter from beneath the table; my tongue buried deep in her pussy, scooping out Jonathan’s cum and loving both had it made her feel and how it made me feel.

She went on. “You know today he put me on all fours and fucked me silly while he put little lead weights hanging off my nipples and it was incredibly erotic!”

His salty cum mixed with her juices rolled down my throat as I slaved savagely to get it all out of her, knowing it would bring her to another orgasm. My tiny cock strained against its cage begging for release and relief of some kind. All I knew was that my freedom and eventual release was all in her hands and at this point in my mouth.

“Jonathan told me that he is going to have surveillance cameras installed in his apartment so that when you go over there clean and do your chores he and I can keep an eye on you. He doesn’t want you snooping around in places you’re not supposed to be and that way he and I can keep an eye on you and make sure you’re doing all your chores. Isn’t that wickedly sinful of him?”

“MMMPH” my muffled cries were growing louder as I could hear her approaching orgasm and in that moment as she wrapped those beautiful thunder thighs around my head and exploded in orgasm, I once again would’ve done anything for her.

Later that night after all the rest of my chores had been complete and Amber had taken a bath and was relaxing on the couch, she rang a little brass bell she kept next to her at all times in the house. The bell was my signal to drop whatever I was doing and come to her immediately. The moment I heard the bell I put down the laundry I was folding and scampered to the living room to find Amber sitting regally in her big armchair. She wore black, sheer, see through camisole and as I entered the room her beauty took my breath away. She told me to strip, and pointed to the floor for me to kneel. My clothes were off in a flash and I knelt with my legs splayed apart in front of her, naked save for my chastity device. Amber instructed me to put my hands behind my back and then she began to slowly play with my balls with her perfectly manicured toes. My cock was bursting in the cage; aching for release that I knew only she could give me.

“Do you like it when I relay my day’s activities with Jonathan baby?” Amber grinned a wicked grin and I immediately got harder.

“Oh yes Amber. You know I love to hear your stories. I love knowing hearing about anything that makes you happy.” Oh how I wanted to cum. On nights like this she would sometimes torment me for hours this way before finally allowing me to cum in some demeaning and humiliating way which I never knew until it happened. I might be allowed to cum on her feet and lick it off. Or sometimes she would straddle me and barely let her pussy slide down over my cock leaving me bouncing around trying to reach into her farther. And other times if she was in a particularly cruel mood she would break out her special concoction as she called it. It consisted of Absorbine JR and vitamin E mixed together which she would then rub on my cock and balls. The sensations were absolutely intense. She would then spend the longest time edging me; bringing me to the brink of orgasm and stopping again and again and finally when she knew I could take it no longer; when she knew I was at the end of my rope and ready to explode she would stroke my cock incredibly fast and just as I was going to shoot she would let go of it and laugh. My cock would jerk and twitch as the cum tried to shoot forth however without any help from Amber I would lay there humping the air in what she would call a ‘ruined orgasm.’

But they were the things I longed for. It was total surrender and total control that I gave and she took. It was a release from the pressures of my everyday life. There was no pressure to make decisions and have to worry about the consequences of those decisions. And in my business, the consequences of me making a right or a wrong decision can run into the millions. That’s how this was so liberating. I no longer had to worry about any of that. I happily gave total control over to Amber and she took it willingly and enjoyed it. I was her toy, her pet, her instrument to be used and played as she saw fit.

Kneeling there as she bounced my balls up and down on her foot I was growing increasingly horny for I hadn’t had an orgasm in two full weeks. Amber and I have almost what you could call a telepathy were all we need to do is share a look with each other and the other person knows what we’re thinking. With an evil grin she reached down to her other ankle and took the key to my device from her anklet that read ‘Hot Wife’ engraved on it.

“Does my little man bride want to cum?” Amber asked me teasingly.

“Oh God yes!” I shouted.

“How long has it been?”

“Two weeks. Two weeks yesterday.” I rattled off like one of my minions at the law firm does when I bark out an order or request. Ah if only they could see me now!

“Oh my poor, poor baby has it really been that long?”

“Yes Amber and I’m dying to cum, please let me cum!!”

“She took the key and unlocked the lock and then gently slid the clear plastic tube off my cock. Then she gently removed the plastic ring from around my balls. My cock was finally free! The feeling of cool air circulated around my cock and balls and my cock twitched up and down with each beat of my heart. Amber instructed me to lay on my back on the day bed that I sometimes slept on in the living room if she felt like sleeping by herself. I lay there with my legs spread as she pulled on a pair of latex gloves and I knew what was coming. She pulled a small bottle out of the drawer next to the day bed and emptied a portion of her special concoction into the palm of her hand.

She began rubbing it all over my cock and balls and the sensation alone almost made me shoot. The burning of the Absorbine JR mixed with the cooling of the Vitamin E provided an intense pain pleasure sensation the likes of which I have never felt.

“You know I told Jonathan today that I did these kinds of things to you and he laughed and couldn’t believe it. He wanted to know what kind of a man, especially a high powered lawyer would let his wife do the kinds of things I do to you? Well, I told him that you don’t ‘let’ me do anything that I do what I want and you crave it. Isn’t that right pumpkin?” Amber was stroking my cock faster now, massaging my balls with her other hand and as she did so while she relished in the fact that she told Jonathan all this, her tits bounced up and down inside the sheer camisole and drove me wilder and wilder as I went.


It was a few minutes before 3 when Adam’s phone alerted him to what seemed like his fiftieth email of the day.

“Slave, you WILL be home by 5:30 tonight. Our guest from last time will again be joining us tonight. It would be rude to make her wait. Like last time, you will enter the house, go directly to the bathroom, disrobe and shower. When finished, dry off and call for me. Reply to let me know you have received this and understand your instructions.”

Adam quickly sent a terse reply. “Mistress Kristen, I have received your email and understand my instructions.” He was rock hard before he finished typing the email. His ass tingled a bit, remembering the paddling inflicted last time he ignored instruction. It had only been two weeks since his wife had become “Mistress Kristen”. Although that was their first and only journey into the world of female domination, he could not get it off his mind. Apparently there was another female observer for their last session. Their guest only made her presence known to him at the very end of the encounter, with a few spoken words. Who was this woman? How did Kristen find her? The mystery only served to intrigue Adam and deepen his desire.

Adam was finally able to pry himself from his desk at 5:04. He was desperately tracking each minute towards the end of the day, not wanting to disappoint Mistress Kristen – or their guest. He knew he would have to hustle home to make his deadline; his commute was twenty minutes on a good day. Adam managed to pull into the driveway at exactly 5:32. He slammed the door, raced through the garage, up the stairs, disrobed and started showering, hoping his mistake would go unnoticed.

“ADAM! Where are your manners?”

He nearly jumped out of his skin at Kristen’s sharp yell. He had not heard her enter the bathroom.

“What do you mean Mistress?” he asked.

“What do I mean? Well, first of all, you were late. Secondly you did not shut the bathroom door. I will not have a slave of mine showing such blatant disregard for rules. Now finish up, and get your ass out here.”

“Yes Mistress.” He answered, wondering what was in store. He tried to catch a peek of Kristen. He loves when she dresses up. Kristen is tall – 5’9″ – and her long legs are stunning in stockings and heels. Last time, he got a peek of her through the shower curtain, but was blindfolded for the rest of the session.

Mistress Kristen sat on a vanity stool in the bathroom, stockinged legs crossed, waiting on her slave. She remained sitting as he exited and commanded him to dry off. This time, she let him see her. She was wearing a black pvc corset that zipped up the front. Her beautiful breasts were pushed up. She wore black nylon stockings and a lace garterbelt. Three inch patent leather pumps completed the outfit. She asked him, “You didn’t get to see my new outfit last time. How do you like it?”

“I love it Mistress.”

“Good, now put this on.” Adam’s heart sank as she produced a blindfold from under her leg. Once Adam was blindfolded, Mistress Kristen returned to business. “You disappointed me slave. You will be punished. Now, over my knee.”

Adam obeyed, climbing over Kristen’s knee. She gave Adam a few swats with her bare hand, then stopped abruptly. He felt his growing cock pressing into her nyloned thigh. “You’re enjoying this too much. Mistress Katie, may I borrow your paddle again?”

“Of course, dear” the familiar voice answered from the bedroom. He heard the distinct click of high heels entering the room. He felt a cool leather paddle lay across his naked back. He wiggled his nose a bit, hoping to see around the blindfold and lay eyes on the Mistress he knew only by voice. “Looks like this blindfold is starting to come off. I’ll help.” Again, a pair of panties was stretched over Adam’s head to secure the blindfold. Adam immediately smelled the scent of another woman. He wondered if he would have the pleasure of servicing a new…SLAP!!!!! The paddle came down on Adam’s ass. The two Mistresses chuckled at the reaction.

“Much better!” added Mistress Kristen. “Now slave, apologize to Mistress Katie for keeping her waiting this evening.” She slapped him again with the paddle.

“Sorry Mistress.” He added.

She spanked twice in quick succession. “Who were you addressing slave?”

“Owwww. Sorry Mistress Katie!” he yelled

She spanked him three more times. “Not so loud! Don’t raise your voice at our guest!”

“Sorry Mistress Katie.” He whimpered.

“Good boy,” She spanked each cheek four more times. “Now, Mistress Katie and I have a bet that you will help us settle. Stand up.” He rose to his feet and felt a hand grasp his cock firmly. She pulled him into the bedroom where she shoved him onto the bed. Adam’s hands and feet were immediately tied to the bed. He felt one of the Mistresses climb onto his face. A hand then took a firm hold of his cock.

“We’re going to have an orgasm race. Once we start, you will eat My pussy, trying to make me cum as quickly as you can. Mistress Katie will start sucking you, trying to make you cum. If I cum first, I win. If not, Mistress Katie wins. Understand?”

“Yes Mistress.”

Kristen lowered her pussy to Adam’s lips. Adam pushed his tongue into her already wet pussy and quickly found her clit. Kristen started grinding her pussy on his face in response. Suddenly, he felt Mistress Katie’s tongue licking slowly up the underside of his penis. Her warm tongue bathed the entire head of his cock, eliciting a soft moan from Adam.

“I had better win boy!” ordered Mistress Kristen.

“Yes Mistress.” He softly mouthed into her cunt.

He drew her clit into his mouth, sucking and licking hard. Mistress Katie dropped her mouth onto his cock quickly moving it down, and then slowly withdrawing it. She was using her hand with her mouth to give long, hard wet strokes on his cock. Adam felt the orgasm building, but kept his wife’s clit in his mouth, flicking it with quick strokes of his tongue. Mistress Kristen started to moan and buck on his face. He could feel her body tensing in preparation for orgasm.

SLAP! Mistress Katie slapped Adam’s balls hard. “Owwwww”, he yelled, causing Kristen’s clit to come out of his mouth, deflating her building orgasm. Mistress Katie went back to work quickly on his cock, plunging her mouth all the way down his shaft. She increased the pace as Adam’s tongue searched for Mistress Kristen’s clit. Adam clenched his thighs and ass, trying to resist the building orgasm. Just as he gets his mouth around Kristen’s clit, Katie gave his balls a gentle squeeze. Adam couldn’t resist any longer. He sent a load straight into Mistress Katie’s mouth.

Mistress Katie chuckled, taunting Kristen. “Looks like I win dear. I will let you know when I intend to collect.”

Mistress Kristen pinched her slave’s nipples hard before responding. “Not exactly fair, but that’s ok. He will pay for this…”

Mistress Katie responded, “I would expect nothing less, my young protégé, but I want trained well before I get my night with him.”

To be continued…

Authors Notes: I would like to thank Literotica author Robert_Anthony (a.k.a. MALIBUMAN666)and his submission ‘Once a Month? as the inspiration for this story.


She lay there gently tracing her fingers up and down his shaft. “OK, now explain to me again what it is you want?”

He swallowed hard. She listened as he told her about his desire to have her tease him and control his orgasms.

“So you want to have sex but don’t want to cum?”

“No, I do I just want you to decide when I do.” He was nervous about how receptive she would be to, for them was, a very kinky request. “I want you in charge of me; sexually.” He paused waiting for her to reply. “I want for you to make me as horny as you can and then decide if I am allowed to cum.”

Silence. She stopped stroking him. “How long have you thought about this?”

“A quite some time. If this is to weird for you I understand. Forget I mentioned it.” He waited in the darkness for a response. Almost dreading her next words.

But there were none. She instead leaned in and began kissing him and started to stroke his throbbing cock again. Before he knew it she had planted he pussy right on his face. He skillfully worked her up to an explosive orgasm. She slowly slide off his face and down his chest stopping right as his cock was outside her pussy.

Rarely she could come more than once. It was only when she was super horny and he hoped that this was the case. Since it would mean that she was somewhat receptive to his request.

Slowly she moved herself onto his shaft. She gyrated slowly and softly as she allowed herself to be penetrated by him. Moving at a snails pace she fucked his cock for some time.

He couldn’t see her eyes in the darkness, but he felt them on him.

Suddenly she stopped and began rubbing her clit on his pelvis. He knew that she was ready to cum. However, this time there was little friction from her pussy on him. She writhed and moaned as she neared climax. He, however, was just along for the ride. “Oh, yes. Fuck yes. Oh, fuck yes. Fuck me, yes.”

He was taken aback by her. She never before spoke, let alone cursed during sex.

She tensed and convulsed as another orgasm ripped through her. She collapsed on top of him and lay there for a minute. He waited patiently for her to roll over and, as customary, he would mount her and he could cum. This time though, she rolled off of him and rolled over. He waited a minute and then when he went to move next to her she spoke. “That was great…Goodnight.”

But it wasn’t for him. He lay there most of the night. Horny. What just happened? Now there were more questions than answers. He decided he would let her bring up the topic again, if she wanted to.

The next morning went by without mention of the night before. As did the rest of the day. And the next weeks, right up to Christmas.

They exchanged gifts by the tree next to the fire. He was still plagued by the last time they had sex, but didn’t let it show. She broke his concentration by giving him one last gift that she had hidden.

He took it, but she held onto it. “If you want this, then you have ten seconds to decide once you open the box. Ten seconds. Yes or No.” She let go and he nervously opened the box. His eyes went wide at the sight of a chastity device sitting in the box.

“Honey I….” She cut him off with a wave of her hand.

“Ten seconds, yes or no or we never talk about this again.”

“Yes”. He felt his cock stirring. Fumbling with the pieces he assembled the cage around his cock and locked the lock. He looked up at her and held out the key. “Thank you.”

She took the key. “Good. Lets get some ground rules out of the way. I am in control of your sex life. I determine when, how and if you can come. Your sole purpose for the next year is to please me sexually. Understand.”

He nodded yes.

“Also, at the end of the year I, not you, decide if I want to continue. Lastly, If I decide that I want to continue this for another year, then the amount of orgasms you get that year will depend on how well you please me this year. Clear?”

Did she say year? “Crystal.”

She got up and opened up his dart board on the wall. A blank piece of white paper was in the center where the board was. She handed him twenty four darts. “Each one of these darts represents an orgasm you’ll be allowed to have next year. Don’t miss.”

He let the first fly. Hit. The next and the next as well. He missed only two darts. Not bad he thought. Not as many as he would have liked, but twenty two was about two a month. That’s certainly less than what he’s used to, but he’s getting his wish. He’s read stories where guys go months or more without release.

She got up and took the darts off the paper and took the paper down. On the other side of the paper was a grid with numbers running left to right ranging from 1 to 365. 1 starting at the top right and 365 at the bottom left. She circled the dart holes that hit the paper, but missed the grid. Eleven. She plotted the dates from the Julian calendar onto a monthly calendar and gave him the paper.

“OK, You get to cum 11 times this year. As you can see there are some large gaps in there.” He looked at the dates. January 21st was first. The next was March 7th, followed by the 11th and then only two weeks to the 26th.

April and May were blank.

June 14th and 24th were next. July was blank. August was a shocker with back to back orgasms on the 3rd and 4th. September was empty, as were the first two weeks of October.

The 20th and 23rd of October were next and November 1st was the last of the year. He swallowed hard and tried to comprehend what had just happened to him. He looked up at her and a wicked grin spread across her face.

“I’ve done a little research as you can see. Funny to see how your precious few orgasms are clustered together, especially in August. At first I wasn’t sure about doing this, but the more I looked into it the more excited I got. I’ve been so very horny these past two weeks waiting to give you your gift. I can’t even imagine how you’re going to make it going nine or ten weeks not only being denied an orgasm, but day after frustrating day of me teasing your, excuse me I mean my cock. Just think of all the times you’ll be fucking my brains out. Giving me orgasm after mind blowing orgasm, only to be locked back up when I’m done with it.”

She moved over to the couch and sat down. “Let’s not leave out all the times I’m going to want to unlock it and play with it just to see how desperate and frustrated you’re going to get.”

She opened her robe and he saw she was naked underneath. “Now, come over here and see how wet and hot my pussy has gotten explaining our arrangement.”

His cock was already straining in its confines. She was normally reserved, never cursing or swearing. Now she sat before him, her fingers exploring her freshly trimmed bush, talking like a porn star. As he lowered himself into her crotch she pushed his head into her steaming womanhood. “Lick it good and make me cum, honey. If you do a really good job I’ll promise not to ruin any of your orgasms.”

He was already so horny. However, she was going to ensure he would be a completely different man by this time next year.

I thought it was at John’s dinner party when the first seeds of the transformation of our marriage were sown. I was wrong. One of the guests, William, had turned the topic of conversation to his own area of expertise—evolutionary psychology—and had the avid attention of the table. To be fair, he didn’t bring it up, he was merely countering the opinion of John’s wife, Rosemary that it was predominantly men who were prone to cheating on their spouses. He rattled through the evidence from science that supposedly revealed the promiscuous nature of the female of the species, from attack sperm to the size of men’s testicles and the potency of a man’s semen when he’d been separated from his partner for any length of time. To be honest, I found William to be a bit of a bore, with his Hugh Grant foppishness, the relish he seemed to display talking about his pet topic and the way he peered over his spectacles to reveal a particularly salacious piece of information to my wife. I would have thought the women at the table would find all this offensive, but quite the contrary, his audience were hanging on his every word.

“Of course, the most intriguing thing about all this—indeed the topic of my thesis—is the manifested counter measures of the male.” William prattled on, “Violent sexual jealousy is an obvious one, but there are other reactions.”

At this point in the conversation my wife Bridgette’s hand had strayed onto my thigh, gently caressing me through the fabric. I turned to look at her. Clearly interested in the conversation, her other hand toyed with her necklace. She was blushing.

“What do you mean by ‘more subtle’?” Bridgette asked. She was slurring a tiny bit, and her gentle caressing of my cock had escalated to a firm squeezing.

“Well it is quite common for men to become extremely sexually aroused by the idea and evidence of their partner’s sexual impropriety.”

“What a load of bullshit.” I was growing a little impatient at this point with what I saw at the time to be academic nonsense, “Where is the evidence?”

“Oh, there is a huge amount of evidence. I’m collecting interviews from wife swapping couples and the people involved in the cuckold fetish scene, for a start.” He wasn’t rattled, indeed he smiled directly at my wife and winked, “I’m looking at an epigenetic angle, I think it’s possible that men may have a genetic switch that may get flicked on when they are exposed to this situation. Some will react violently, others seem to become addicted to the intense sexual feelings the situation provokes and find a new subordinate relationship to their wives. It’s amazing the amount of straight men who eventually end up with a fetish for finding other men’s semen in their wife’s vagina.” He made eye contact with me at this point, then brazenly returned his gaze to my wife’s cleavage. “What was that you said, the err, cuckold scene? What is that?” She squeezed my now very hard cock under the table.

“Ah, well, it’s an active sexual fetish, if you look online you can find all sorts of material relating to it, speciality pornography, stories, forums, dating sites that cater to men who have a sexual fetish for having their wives or girlfriends take on lovers.”

My wife laughed and said “How peculiar!”, the conversation was interrupted as dessert was served and my penis ignored for the rest of the evening. She seemed more interested in talking to William and drinking wine. By the time we left she was a little drunk. This was unusual for my Bridgette.

Later, as we undressed for bed my wife remarked on the conversation. Looking back, this was probably my one and only opportunity to put end to these ideas of infidelity and cuckolding, if only I knew then what I know now.

“Well, that William fellow was rather interesting, don’t you think?” My wife asked as I unzipped her dress.

“No, I thought he was a little too clever for his own good. HE seemed to think that he was very interesting, though.”

“Oh, I thought he was a bit dishy too, he looks a little bit like Johnny Depp, don’t you you think?” A drunken tease? I grunted a reply, she was right and I didn’t want to admit it. He was handsome in a pretty boy way. Seemed much younger than he actually was, he was slim with a full head of hair. Prick.

“Jealous? Undo my bra, darling,” She was grinning, we made eye contact in the mirror and as I fumbled with the bra clasp she reached behind and grabbed the front of my trousers. “All that talk of sex has put me in the mood darling.”

“You’re drunk.”

Now, as painful as it is to admit it, I guess I’m going to say that I’m a little slow. I still hadn’t put two and two together at this point. If I’d actually been paying attention to my wife I would have realised that she just admitted to my face that she was sexually aroused by flirting with another man. Clearly, I was distracted by her hands in my fly. Quite an easy thing to happen now that the fires of our marriage had reached a burning ember phase. We made love maybe once a fortnight at most. Some months not at all. Lately it had been a bit of a dead zone, and I was almost overjoyed to be getting some.

I tried to pull my wife down onto the bed, I was honestly surprised when she easy evaded my attempt and pushed me backwards.

“Wait a minute, buster. SIT!” my wife was standing over me, dressed only in the lower half of the black lingerie I bought for her last birthday, an obscenely small g-string with matching garter belt. It was now that I noticed that she looked a little different, but I wasn’t sure how. she was standing with her hands on her hips and she glanced down. My eyes followed the curves of her body, past her stocking clad legs, all the way down to her black stiletto shoes.

“We need to have a little chat first.”

“I thought you were in the mood for sex?”

“Yes I AM.” she moved closer, my face centimetres from her lace clad pussy. “And that’s what I would like a little chat about, Duncan.” She closed that gap, the final centimetres between my face and the front of her knickers, pushing my head back until she could see into my eyes. I could smell her, and the fabric beneath my lips was warm and damp.

“You don’t notice me anymore.”

I tried to mumble something into her crotch, but she cut me off.

“You didn’t notice my hair tonight.” Fuck, that’s what different, she’s had a haircut. “Or my new shoes, I bought them because I thought they might turn you on.” She lifted one killer-heeled foot up to my balls, gently making a kicking motion at them. She was drunk, this made me nervous.

“When was the last time we had sex, Duncan?” I couldn’t talk, and while I maybe slow, I’m not stupid, the question was rhetorical. I could tell by her tone she was about to tell me.

“Three and a half fucking weeks ago, was the last time we had sex. I have to say too, that was a pretty miserable fuck, Duncan.”

I had figured the no sex thing was her not wanting it. I thought back to three weeks ago, yes it had been ordinary. I wasn’t hard enough, because I’d been masturbating to porn all afternoon while she was having lunch with her parents. Masturbating to porn. Oh, actually I had been doing that quite a lot this year. As I stared into her eyes I started to get angry. I managed to extricate myself and stand on my feet.

“Well I’m so SORRY to disappoint you but I’ve been helping myself out lately because you’re never in the mood. I wouldn’t have had a wank if I’d known I was going to get lucky.”

“I’m never in the mood because you don’t pay me any attention any more! I’m bored Duncan. Whenever we make love you do the same things every time… you’re like clockwork. I know exactly what you’re going to do in what order. I’ve been ‘helping myself out’ for years because you won’t even go down on me anymore.” She had started to cry.

Bridgette never cries unless she’s angry. I’ve never seen her cry from pain, or sadness or grief but when she gets angry and tries to raise her voice, inevitably she cries. Oh and she punches when she’s angry too, wallops on the chest. Like she was doing now. See, I notice some things.

I didn’t exactly take this well. I tend to shut down to confrontation, and this was in all honesty the first serious argument we’d had since we were married four years ago. Oh, there were plenty before, we broke up several times before we were finally married, we sometimes fought about our living arrangements, housework and such. I climbed into bed and rolled over onto my side away from her.

She sat on the bed next to me and cried. Climbed onto her side of the bed and cried. Moved a little closer and cried. By now my anger had deflated and I rolled over to comfort her, taking her in my arms I began to kiss away the tears and stroke her hair.

“William noticed my hair AND he complimented my shoes.” She sniffled then blew her nose.

“What’s that dear?”

“I SAID, William noticed my new haircut and he said my shoes were sexy.” She had a sort of childish ‘so there’ expression that she normally reserves for episodes of my navigational malpractice or when she’s winning at scrabble, she always wins scrabble.

“How could he notice your new haircut dear, we only met him tonight?”

“Oh, I’ve met him before, at Uni, he used to go out with a girl in my year. Years ago. I used to have such a crush on that guy.”

Miraculously, the tears had disappeared by this point. I stared at my wife, I had to admit I was jealous. She looked gorgeous, still wearing just the tiny, sheer panties, stockings and heels. She grinned as she noticed me noticing her.

“Finally, you’re paying some attention. I guess William might be right about that jealousy thing.” She raised an eyebrow and reached for my now throbbing cock. I hadn’t had an erection like this for months, even though I thought she was just teasing me about William, trying to prove a point, I was getting excited, but my guts churned with a sinking feeling at the same time. I couldn’t place this emotion, and was still delusional enough to deny it was the sexual arousal from jealousy William had been talking about earlier.

“Oh, look how hard you are… I think I should make you jealous more often. Maybe that way we’ll both get what we want. Do you want to take these off?” She ran a finger around the inside of her knickers, just pulling them down enough to reveal the tiny tuft of her pubic hair. Again, this should have been a clue to something being up. Until now Bridgette had always been quite passive in bed. Now don’t get me wrong, she loved sex and when we were younger she would usually have somewhere between three to seven orgasms for every one of mine—mostly from oral sex or her masturbating while I fucked her—but I was on top so to speak, calling the shots, running the show. We hardly even talked during sex and now out of nowhere she was my fantasy come true. My secret desire had always been to be with a woman who knew how to wield her sexual power, who could dominate me. At the time I attributed my powerful arousal solely to her new confidence, the possibility that I was going to get what I had always dreamed about but was too awkward to ask for.

I reached up and slipped off her underwear, she slowly opened her legs. Smiling, she ran her hands down her body, and then, with an index finger on each labia opened herself to my gaze.

“Eat me like you used to handsome, make me come.”

“With pleasure, my dearest.” I must have forgotten how much I enjoyed doing this, more evidence of the distance that had been growing between us. I started with the skin of her thigh, from the top of her stocking, slow, firm kisses, inching closer to warm folds of her labia. I stopped just above those pink folds, caressing them with my breath. I knew she couldn’t take too light a touch at first, she was always so sensitive to the initial touch. It needed to be warmed up slowly but firmly or she would buck and giggle. I let my lips firmly rest in the crease between her thigh and her pussy, waiting for her to relax before allowing my tongue to run the length of that side from anus all the way up to almost touch her clitoris, then repeating this on the other side. She sighed, then moaned as my tongue reached the slick, warm entrance.

I had forgotten how much I loved the taste and smell of my wife. When we first started seeing one another, I had to convince her that I preferred doing this before she had a shower, when she was fragrant, that I loved her most when I could taste her. She finally gave in when I told her about the letter Napoleon sent to Josephine that simply said “home in three days, do not wash”.

I gently sucked at her, drinking the sticky flow from within, savouring the salty sweet taste of her arousal. My tongue reached as far as it could, writhing slowly inside of her.

“Oh, you are good at that, I think I’m going to have to demand you do it everyday, which you should enjoy, seeing as you claim you’re sex starved.” I moaned agreement into her, before she delivered the first bombshell. “I know your secret Duncan.”

I froze.

“Don’t stop.” She had a ruthless commanding tone to her voice.

“Do you think I’m not aware of your terrible wanking habit, or what you’ve been wanking off to? I had a good look through that laptop of yours a few months ago, your chat logs were rather interesting, not to mention the filthy porn you watch.”

I think I was blushing at this point.

“Ah, so feeling guilty, Dunkie? Let me tell you that a few things are going to change around here… Put your fingers inside me, quickly.”

Her breathing was getting laboured as my tongue worked her clit. She was getting close. She loved having two fingers, no more, inside. Palm up, fingers curved, pressing upwards never failed to find the spot that pushed her over the edge.

“You’ve been too busy wanking to notice that my sex drive has started to hit the roof. I NEED more attention, and clearly if you like being bossed around, that’s exactly what I’m going to do but no more jerking off to sleazy internet girls… and you do realise that they were probably other desperate guys pretending to be women right? You’ve been cheating on me, Dunkie and I think now I deserve a little payback.”

She was really moaning now, she grabbed my head and pushed herself hard against my tongue.

“What I should do is have an affair, that would teach you a fucking lesson…. oh… fuck… harder, Duncan.” I felt my stomach drop, it’s an odd feeling jealousy, but I couldn’t get angry I was the one who was in the wrong. I was doing my best to give her as much pleasure as I could, and she was right on the edge. “If… you can’t … oh… god… fucking satisfy me… I’ll have … to… uhh… find somebody who fucking… can.” I was really fucking her hard with my fingers at this point, and licking her like my marriage depended on it, which it probably did. The revelation was how turned on her threats and new assertiveness were making me, I reached down to my hard cock.

“STOP FUCKING WANKING… that is what got you into this mess in the first place.” I moaned with frustrated desperation into her pussy, which seemed to turn her on more.

Another half minute and she was screaming hysterically as she came. I attributed it to the booze and the fact she hadn’t received a decent head job for some time; the orgasm that is, and the fact she fell right asleep afterwards. I carefully removed her shoes and stockings, then tucked her into bed. I then snuck off to the study to watch a video of a man having a finger jammed into his urethra until he came. My eruption followed shortly after. I brushed my teeth then climbed into bed next to my snoring wife.

It is Saturday morning. Lynn and I are kissing and cuddling in bed.

Lynn and I are in our early fifties and have been married for about 5 years. We both had been married before. When we were dating, Lynn was a very take charge person which I found to be a real turn-on. I especially loved it when she would order me around, especially in the bedroom. She also had many other male admirers and I enjoyed it when she would joke about going out with them. I encouraged her to actually do it, but she never did. Much to my disappointment, after we married, Lynn turned into a traditional good wife. She stopped joking about other guys saying that was just not right, until today.

“Ray is coming over this afternoon. He is going to take me for a ride on his new motorcycle.”

Lynn and Ray have been good friends since before we met. It was clear to me that Lynn had a thing for him, but apparently he had never reciprocated. I enjoyed the old thrill I would get when she used tease me about other guys before we were married. Lynn had mentioned a couple of weeks ago that Ray had bought a new bike and that she would love to go for a ride since she had not done that for years. I wondered whether she was more interested in getting on a bike again or in holding onto Ray.

“Oh, that sounds like fun. I know you have wanted to go riding with him.”

“You have some things to do before he gets here.” I feel a moment of anxiety as I wonder what she wants, but I enjoy her taking charge like she used to.

“What’s that?”

“Ray thinks you are out of town so move your car to the next street. I want you gagged and tied to the bed in the guest room when he gets here, so you’ll have to attach some restraints to the bed and figure out a good gag. I plan to seduce him and want you to hear some of this. You better be alright with that.”

My cock gets immediately hard when she says this. I have fantasized for years about her screwing another man which is why I enjoyed it so much when she used to tease me about other men. I have told her that I wanted her to enjoy other men, but she always brushed off the idea saying it wouldn’t be right. I had pretty much given up on the idea of it ever happening, though I still often fantasized about it and the image never fails to get me off. Ray has been the star of many of these fantasies, since I knew that Lynn fancied him.

“Of course! I can’t think of a better guy for you than Ray.”

Lynn reached down and grabbed my erection.

“Oh, I can feel that you really do like this idea! I guess you won’t object to also taking me shopping this morning for a new bra and panty set to wear for him!”

“That sounds like a fun shopping trip!”

I really mean it. I love to take her shopping for lingerie and the idea of buying her intimate things to wear for another man made the prospect even better. We kiss for a few minutes. My cock is rock hard as she gently teases it. I start to caress her boobs. She shoves my hands away as she rolls out of bed.

“Those are Ray’s boobs!”

I am struck by an intense combination of jealousy and excitement. A string of questions races through my mind. Will Lynn enjoy Ray more than me? Is he bigger than me? Should I stop this? Despite all these questions, my cock is sure that it wants her to do this. I want her to call the shots and take another lover.

It was rather surreal as we went about our usual morning routines. On the surface, it was so normal, yet I knew that today would be anything but normal.

After breakfast, we head off to our favorite lingerie store. I always love lingerie shopping with Lynn, but this was really exciting. When we got to the store, I was pleased to see that Lynn immediately went to the expensive stuff instead of the more practical section she usually shops. There was this red lacy bra with matching lacy panties that caught both of our eyes. As we were looking for her size, the sales lady came over to help. “Stephen, do you really think Ray will like me in these?”

Lynn says this loud enough that the saleslady is sure to hear. I am embarrassed, but that just seems to make me hard.

“I am sure of it!”

The saleslady gives me an odd look as she helps us find the sizes we need. As I am paying, the sales lady asks me who Ray is. “He is an old boyfriend of my wife’s.”

“Isn’t he such a good husband to buy these for my date with Ray?” Lynn chimes in.

The sales lady is obviously amused but doesn’t say anything else. I am mortified and aroused at the same time.

When we get home, I get out the restraints. I attach some ankle and wrist cuffs to the corners of the bed frame. Since we didn’t have any decent gags, I went to the adult store and bought a ball gag. When I get back to the house, Lynn is getting out of the shower. She tells me to get out of our bedroom while she gets ready since her body is for Ray today. I putter with some minor tasks around the house, but I can’t stop wondering about this afternoon. While I have doubts, my hard cock makes it clear that I want this. I want her to seduce Ray while I have to listen. I am both scared of and excited by the possibility that Ray is a much better lover than me. A little before 2, Lynn comes out of the bedroom. She looks hot! Her hair is in a sassy short cut. Her make-up is a little heavier than usual with whore-red lipstick. Her shorts are tight and show lots of her legs. She is wearing a white shirt with lots of buttons open to show her cleavage. The red lacy bra is clearly visible under the shirt giving her a slutty fuck-me look. She tells me that Ray will be here soon, so it is time to tie me up. We walk into the guest bedroom and I start to lie down on the bed.

“I have decided that I want you naked while I am seducing Ray. If you make any noise, I will show him how small your cock is! I may do that anyway at some point!”

I am mortified by the idea of Ray seeing me naked, but I don’t want to stop this afternoon. After thinking all morning about Lynn spreading her legs for Ray, I want it so badly that I will do anything. I strip off my clothes and put them away.

“I see that you are almost as excited about this as I am,” as she gives my hard cock a playful slap.

I lay spread eagled on the bed and she attaches the cuffs. After she puts in the ball gag, I realize how totally helpless and vulnerable I am. “I hope you don’t regret encouraging me to have other lovers. It is too late now!”

She lightly rubs her fingers up and down my engorged cock. I moan in pleasure and rock my hips up to get more satisfaction.

“I love to see you desperate for me. Now that I will have another lover, I can deny you without having to go without!”

A few minutes later, I hear a motorcycle pull up. “I hope you enjoy thinking about what Ray and I will be doing this afternoon!” Lynn says as she leaves to go meet him. I wait and then finally hear them drive off. Were they hugging and kissing in the driveway for all the neighbors to see? I think about her holding onto him on the back of his bike and I get so hard. Will the vibrations of the bike get her aroused? I think about her wonderful breasts pressed up against his back. I am jealous, horny, and excited all at once. My cock is rock hard and I want to jerk off, but of course there is no way I can do that. As I think of them together, I have this urge to stop this, but I am helpless.

Between thoughts of Lynn and Ray together, I think about Lynn’s threat to deny me after this. I love to be teased by Lynn. She knows this and teases me from time to time. Most of the time, she eventually brings me off, but sometimes she leaves me wanting. I love it that she sometimes denies me, but how would I feel if she always denied me?

After what seems like forever, I hear the motorcycle return and the front door open. I hear voices, but as hard as I try, I can’t understand the words. What they are talking about? What are they doing? Is Lynn really coming on to him? My whole world is focused on imagining what they are doing and trying to pick out any words.

Laughter… Quiet….. What does that mean? More laughter… Lynn puts on some romantic music. In my mind I see them dancing to the music. She snuggles up against him. He presses his hard cock against her. She turns her face toward him and they kiss while he cups her ass with his hands and pulls her body tight against his cock. Or maybe they are sitting on the couch making out. Ray inches his hands under her top and feels her breasts. Lynn strokes his cock through his pants. Maybe Lynn is doing a striptease for him. She is taking off her top so that he can enjoy the bra that I bought her. She drops her shorts showing off the new panties and lewdly rubs her cunt. All of these scenes and more go through my head. I am jealous. I am excited. Do I really want this? My cock answers a responding, yes! I lose track of time though it seems like an eternity. An intense wave of jealousy hits me. I think about Lynn’s wonderful body which Ray is probably now enjoying. Her full breasts, her gorgeous face, her smooth wet pussy. I am overcome with desire for her. For a moment I strain against the bonds because I want to stop this. Then I think about how much fun Lynn is having. I feel good that I am letting her have her fun and I relax.

It seems like forever as I lay there with my cock straining to get even harder. I imagine even more romantic and erotic scenes between Ray and Lynn.

The music is turned off and I hear Lynn playfully say, “It will be more comfortable in bed. You have to catch me if you want that blow job!”

I hear them run up the stairs to the bedroom.

“Gotcha! Suck my cock you red lacy slut!”

I don’t hear anything for a couple of minutes. “Oh Ray! Your cock is so much bigger than Stephen’s. I love sucking it!”

I strain to hear them but the silence is only broken by an occasional masculine groan.

I remember how good it feels when Lynn sucks me: the feel of her tongue as she licks up my dick, the soft warmth of her mouth as she takes the head of my cock into her mouth. Lynn rarely gives me a blow job, but Ray is getting it easily. “Yeah, suck those balls!”

Lynn refuses to suck my balls! Oh, the delicious combination of humiliation and desire knowing that she is doing that for Ray. I lie there helpless as I continue to hear the moans of pleasure from Ray. How long is she sucking him? She never sucks me for that long.

“Stop, I want to come in your cunt later!”

“I’ll do whatever you want, Ray!”

“Strip off those lacy things and put on a show for me! I want to see you play with yourself!”

I hear bodies move and then silence. I remember how Lynn plays with herself. Her right hand rubs her clit and her left hand squeezes her nipples and play with her breasts. She is probably going to finger fuck herself so Ray can watch that. I am proud that my wife is putting on a good show for Ray. I wish I could watch the show, see Ray aroused by Lynn’s wanton behavior. I lay there imagining the scene in the next room for what seems like forever.

“Tell me what you want,” Ray growls.

“I want you!”

“Tell me in detail, slut!”

“I want you to fuck me!”

“You want my cock in you?”

“Yes, yes. I want your big cock to fill my cunt!”

“You really want this big cock?”

“Yes, I want it! It is so much bigger than Stephen’s! Fuck me like he can’t!”

“Beg for it!”

“Please Ray! Please, pound my pussy with your big cock! Please fill me with your cum!”

I hear the bed squeaking, bodies slapping, moans of pleasure from both Lynn and Ray. I lie there helpless. My cock wants to be touched desperately, but it can only fuck the air while Ray gets to fuck my wife. I strain at my bonds because I am desperate to jerk off, but I am helpless and totally frustrated. After awhile I can hear them slow down.

“Ride me, cowgirl, ride me!”

I hear bodies rearrange and then a steady rhythm.

“Suck my tits! Bite’em! Harder! Harder!”

I hear the bed squeaking and moans from both Ray and Lynn. Lynn’s moan take on the sound she makes when she is about to come.

“Oh! Oh! Oh, Ray!”

Ray has made her come with his dick. I can’t do that. I am jealous, but I am also glad that Lynn experienced that at the same time.

“Get on your knees!”

I hear a steady rhythm of his body slapping against Lynn’s ass. I hear moans of pleasure from Lynn and deep masculine grunts from Ray. It seems to go on forever. I don’t have this much stamina. I am humiliated and excited for Lynn at the same time. “Fill me, Ray! Fill my cunt!”


I imagine the sight of Ray shoving deep into Lynn’s cunt and pumping his seed far inside her. I am glad that Lynn has been fucked the way that she deserves. I am humiliated by the certain knowledge that I am not nearly the stud that Ray is.

Suddenly, it is quiet. They must be cuddling. In my mind’s eye, I see their naked bodies entwined as they share their afterglows. I don’t know how long they are there. It seems like forever. They have probably fallen asleep in each other arms. As I lie helpless, my cock is rock hard and fruitlessly tries to fuck the air. After awhile, I, too, doze off.

I wake to hear the sounds of Ray getting dressed.

“This has been fun, Lynn. I can’t wait until the next time that Stephen is out of town!”

I hear them walk down the stairs and the front door open. It is quiet for a long time. They must be kissing good bye.

“Thanks for coming, Ray,” Lynn says with a laugh.

Lynn comes back upstairs and I hear the guest bedroom door open.

“I see you enjoyed listening to that.” She takes off the gag. She looks gorgeous with that special just fucked glow. There are hickies on her neck and breast. She climbs on the bed and lowers her pussy onto my face. I lick it lovingly. It tastes different, but I don’t have to wonder why.

“Yeah, clean Ray’s cum out of me.”

I nod and work my tongue as far in as I can to clean her well.

“Now when you go out of town, you will know what I will be doing.”

After a few minutes, she gets off my face and ever so lightly caresses my dick.

“Do you still love me, Stephen?”

“Yes, Lynn, I do.”

“I really enjoyed that. It was so much fun to have someone different.”

“It was exciting for me, too, and I am so glad you enjoyed yourself. You deserve all the pleasure you can get.”

“Ray really is a great lover! You are going to have to take lots of business trips!”

“I figured as much!”

She unlocks the cuffs and says, “And you deserve to get all the teasing you can take! Get dressed, you have chores to do!”

September 2018
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