 |
|||
|
|
FIVE WORDS
Part Nine: March
It was Friday evening. Mart was squeezed into the packed commuter train and sighing with relief that his working week was finally over. He was strangely proud of the job he’d done setting up Jack’s filing and administration. It was dull, monotonous work but, as his dad used to say; if something’s worth doing, it’s worth doing well.
Jack had allowed him to leave an hour earlier than usual so it was only just past eight when he arrived home. The house was alive, music playing loud.
“Lay lady lay, lay across my big brass bed …”
Kelly was singing along to Bob Dylan, brushing her hair in the mirror.
She hadn’t heard him let himself in.
“Hi !” she called out turning, when she finally sensed him watching her.
She skipped over and kissed him on the cheek.
“I’m going to have to take those keys back.” She laughed, holding out her hand.
Mart dropped the bunch of house keys into her palm.
“Don’t look at me like that.” She said, suddenly cross. She was dressed in a new, clinging silk dress that looked designer-expensive. It was black with a red belt and a low-cut ‘v’ neckline that accentuated her generous cleavage. She pressed the remote, lowering the music volume.
“I’m sorry.”
He was tired, hungry. She’d gone away without warning and now she was back. He just didn’t know what to expect next.
“Don’t stare at my tits, Mart. Fix me a glass of champagne.” She said. “And you may pour one for yourself too ?”
He nodded, gratefully. His first alcohol of 2007.
He returned with the glasses. She raised hers.
“To our new house.” She said.
He sipped. “Can I ask where it is now ?”
She licked her lips and put down her glass, ignoring his question.
“I’ll tell you over dinner. I’ve booked us a table for 8.30.”
He smiled, inhaling a breath of relief.
She reached out a hand and cupped his cheek.
“Tough week ?”
“Yeah. Long, hard and dull.”
She giggled coquettishly, reaching down to his zipper. “Sounds like your lovemaking, Mart. Pull these down. I’m going to unlock you for the evening. Give you a chance to seduce me. Who knows ? A treat ?”
They ate at a new restaurant. Okay food and service, nothing special. She paid with her card, smiling.
“Thanks for dinner, darling. We’ve just spent what Jack gave me for your week’s work. Easy come, easy go.”
He opened his palms to gesture it was nothing, a pleasure.
“May I go to the bathroom ?”
She tut-tutted. “No. I don’t trust you not to touch yourself.”
“I …”
“You can go in the car park outside.”
“Thank you, Ma’am.” He said in a hushed tone.
“Portugal.” She said, suddenly. “The Algarve.”
It took a moment but he realised she was finally telling him where the house was. He had loved the Algarve since they all used to take holidays there when Chantal was a kid.
“Wow. Good choice.”
“Let’s go.” She said, snapping her purse shut.
Kelly sat on the cream plastic toilet seat and punched the keys on her cell. While the number dialled, she shut her eyes and relaxed her bladder.
She heard the hiss of her piss mingled with the sound of Mart’s indignant gurgle. Amusingly though, his erection twitched in response.
The lips can lie but the hips always tell the truth.
“Hi.” A voice answered.
It was obvious that his caller-display had revealed she was calling.
“You get home fine ?” she asked him.
“Surprisingly little traffic for a Friday. You tell him ?”
“Not yet. There’s no rush.”
“What’re you doing ?”
“A shower.”
“You’re in the shower ?”
“Just finished.” It was true. Her flow slowed to a dribble. The pungent aroma of her asparagus starter made her titter.
“What are you laughing at ?”
“Nothing.”
“Where is he ?”
“Oh, just cleaning up.” She watched Mart’s Adam’s apple bobbing beneath her, against the neck of the portable toilet.
There was a pause.
“So, what time tomorrow ?”
“Be here at one. No earlier.”
“Gotcha.”
“I’ll see you then. Bye.”
“Bye, Gorgeous. Until then.”
She flipped her cell closed and laid it on the tiled floor.
Mart’s dick was hard, parallel with his flat stomach. His groin was completely hairless, shaved and plucked, and his scrotum looked full and tender to the touch.
She picked up the plastic, 12-inch ruler and thwacked it across her left palm, measuring its payload.
“Can you hear me, darling ?”
She heard a muffled ‘mmyuthm’ from between her thighs.
Without warning, she cracked the plastic whip along his veined shaft.
There was a louder ‘mmyaww’ and his body jerked.
“Don’t move, darling. I’ve missed you. I’ve missed our games.”
She lashed again, watching his cock-helmet bounce twice.
His limbs tensed and she heard him trying to control his roar of pain.
“If you don’t enjoy this, Mart, just lose the erection, okay ?”
She have him eight more strokes, hard enough to hurt but not sufficiently savage to drive away his urgent desire.
Smiling, she used the tip of the ruler to lever up his shaft like a flagpole.
“More ?” she called down.
“No, plizz …” he could speak slightly more clearly now.
“More piss did you say ?”
She laid down the ruler and slid her hand up and down his scalding shaft a couple of times. It was red, throbbing, desperate.
“No more, please.” He gasped through the tiny triangular gap between her thighs.
Disinterestedly, she let his erection go.
In truth, she’d never had any intention of letting Mart seduce her, giving him a treat. For a start, her pussy was still a tiny bit sore. But it wasn’t that. A small part of her felt a little self-reproach for what had gone on with Dylan. But mostly she knew that she had to be tough over the next few days. Mart had already had a meal out, a night off, a few hours respite. It had been less than three weeks since his last orgasm in the competition with Nick. To let him cum again so soon would be a dangerous indulgence.
The next morning, he brought her breakfast in bed.
“Mmm …”. She yawned, stretching. “Sleep well ?”
He had spent the night in the guest room, his re-caged dick throbbing, but a reasonable sleep and the prospect of a weekend without going to work, had left him feeling refreshed.
“Yeah, thanks.”
She sipped her grapefruit juice and patted the bed.
“Sit.”
He obeyed. Her hair was tousled and she had no make up. She was approaching 40 but looked 30. She was lightly tanned, beautiful.
“You accept my right to set all limits, don’t you Mart ?”
“… Yes.” He croaked.
“The next few days are going to be a real test of that.”
He gulped. He’d known that she was going to say something like that.
“W … what do y … you mean ?”
She turned her head to look directly at him. “Last July, I promised I wouldn’t abandon you, Mart, and I won’t. Ever. But if you walk out, that’s up to you.”
He blinked, nervous now, his heart racing.
“I’ve found somebody I want to live with for a while. Here. The three of us. Him and me as … lovers. And you as our slave.”
“L … like James.”
“No, Mart. Not like James. That was just a short term game. He was never going to stay more than a few weeks, tops. Even if I pretended otherwise at the time. But … this time, it’s different.”
Mart stared at her. His mind confused. It was only two months since Christmas. He remembered saying that the only thing he was afraid of was how he’d feel if he lost her. And she’d replied in that case he’d nothing to fear.
Yet now he felt terribly nervous.
“Who ? …”
She put her finger to his lips.
“He doesn’t want you out of the way either, Mart. He doesn’t want your place. He wants you to stay. But he will be in charge.”
“Wh …”
“Sssh !” she said, picking up a slice of pineapple. “He’s coming to lunch.”
At that precise moment, only a few miles away, Naomi was in her car. Nick was performing a long list of household chores she’d left him while she was out ‘Saturday shopping’.
Or that’s what she’d said.
She parked her car and took a final nervous drag on her cigarette, before stubbing it out under her heel. Then she popped a mint in her mouth and rang the doorbell, checking her reflection in the front window. The door opened and a ruggedly handsome guy stood there, smiling easily.
“Good morning.” She said, apprehensively.
“Come in.” Jack replied.
She sat down in the kitchen while he brewed coffee and made small talk.
Finally he pushed a steaming mug down in front of her.
“You know about Kelly ?”
“With Dylan ?” He replied. “Sure. She called me.”
“You mind ?”
He pouted negatively. “No way. She made it clear from the start.”
“She … er … suggested I call you.”
He flashed a sheepish grin. “I’m glad you did.”
“I’m not Kelly.”
He blew on his coffee to cool it. Or more likely, to buy time.
“I know Nao. I’m not making any assumptions. Or judgements.”
She looked into his kind eyes and slowly relaxed. “Kelly thinks … well, you know what she thinks.”
“Kelly thinks with this nowadays.”
He pointed his finger downwards at his groin. Her groin.
She frowned and he picked up on it.
“I don’t mean that nastily. She’s a great lady. But what’s right for her, may not be right for you.”
“Or Nick.”
He nodded. “Or Nick. Or even me.”
There was a brief silence. “She said you’re a great … you know … stud.”
He laughed.
“Not just like that. But you’re fun, relaxed, reliable, discreet.”
“And Kelly thinks I’m just what you need. To try it out, right ?.”
His words. But her exact thoughts. Why was she here ? To try it out. Kelly was right. There was only one way to find out.
She dropped her eyes to her lap, brushing her jeans straight.
“Does Nick know you’re here ?”
“Yes.” She looked up at him, but diverted her gaze over his shoulder.
He smiled, peering back over his mug.
“Sure ?”
She shook her head. “… No.”
“If he doesn’t know, it’s not cuckolding, Nao. It’s infidelity.”
She stared at her fingernails. Yes, but Nick wanted her to dominate him. So why shouldn’t she do as she liked, just as Kelly did ? Why should her husband get to impose limits, rules ?
“He doesn’t have to know.”
Jack raised an eyebrow. “You want to have an affair ?”
“I don’t know what the heck I want. But I do know I want to have sex with another guy. It’s been so long. I know I want to have sex with you, Jack.”
He gave her a wicked but charming smirk.
“Now ?”
She couldn’t stop herself glancing at her watch.
“I’m …” Her voice trailed off.
Jack stood up and took her coffee cup out of her grip.
“Come and see my bedroom, Nao.”
Mart lay in the enclosed dark void under Kelly’s bed.
He had been there since 12.45 and it was now at least two o’clock.
He was gagged with a pair of her panties and sticking tape over his mouth, his ankles and wrists tied with cuffs, spreadeagled under the bed, just able to make out the springs and mattress bouncing in rhythm as she fucked her lunchtime guest. He could just make out her muted moans and the deeper groans of a male partner. He had no idea who the man was.
What he did know was that everything was changing again. Kelly had locked him under the bed with relish. There had been a look in her eyes that said … what ? That said the events of the past eight months hadn’t been enough. She really did want it all. The lot.
And what did he want ? At first it had been fantasyland. The realisation of a gradually rising need to live as her slave. It hadn’t all been fun. However he was glad he had tried everything. But since Christmas reality had set in. Could he really live like this ? Month after month, year after year ? Did he want it 24/7 like this ? Would she allow him to live any other way again ?
The bouncing springs reached a frantic crescendo and then stopped, muffled sounds of orgasms, as his wife finished yet another fuck with yet another man.
How many had there been ? Alain, James, the Italian in Rome, Jack. At least four, maybe more ? And yet ? Could he really, truly blame her ?
He lay there, his groin throbbing with unsatisfied lust, dick crushed in steel and balls firm with unspent seed.
Who the fuck was in bed with his wife ?
Kelly snapped the second wrist cuff closed.
She smiled inwardly at the old joke; what does a woman wear on her ears to please a man ? Her ankles.
Mart was coiled up, lying on his back, his hands locked to the headboard and his legs in the air, tied behind his head, his red face peering up at her between his knees.
It was three thirty. She and Dylan had enjoyed a bite of lunch after a maiden voyage round her bed. Then she had come upstairs to release Mart from under the mattress.
“Lie down.” She said, pointing at her white sheet. There was still a damp patch visible, semi-dried, down the centre of the bed.
Is he still here ? Mart’s expression asked her the question silently.
She shook her head, reading his gaze. “He left. Until another day.”
His green eyes blinked in relief. He lay down directly on the soggy mark.
“So I want to play just the two of us.” She told him.
After he was helpless, his ass presented, she teasingly ran a fingernail around the rim of his anus. His penis was unlocked again. She chuckled as it hardened, pointing down at his face.
She removed her robe, revealing her nakedness, and climbed onto the bed. She pushed her bare breasts against his upturned buttocks. Then, slowly, she revealed to him the massive black ribbed dildo that she’d hidden out of sight until then. His eyes stared wide from it to her, and he gasped.
“I can take it.” She murmured huskily, like a model from a chocolate bar advert. “So you can too.”
Moving to his side, so that he could at least glimpse her, she toyed the dildo between her pouting, still sodden labia. She let him watch as she fingered her nipples with her left hand and eased the dildo inside with her right.
“Nngghh …” she inhaled, “oohh that’s big … bigger than James.”
She pushed again. It genuinely hurt, albeit in a pleasurable, slightly masochistic way. It was 12 inches long and 3 inches in diameter at the fattest part of the shaft.
“You would have liked to fuck my butt, wouldn’t you Mart, admit it ?”
She let go of her own nipples and started massaging his prostate, teasing the hardness of his groin with her fingers.
“I … guess …”
“Ooohhh …” she winced, biting her lower lips. “Ouch.”
She’d got over half inside her, maybe 7 inches. To the thickest part.
“That’s me done.”
She slid it out again with a distinctive slurping plop.
“Look. It’s nice and lubed now. You should say thanks to the man who did this.”
She reached in between his knees and presented the black plastic.
“Say thanks. And kiss it.”
“Th … anks.” She studied him licking the glutinous dildo.
“Now, let’s have a go, shall we ?”
Thoroughly enjoying herself now, and intrigued, Kelly twiddled the crown of the dildo at the rim of Mart’s ass and began to drill.
“Hey !” She laughed.
Spread as he was, it went in surprisingly easily. His butt was wide open.
“You were made for this darling.”
But pretty soon he grimaced at her, breathing in staccato bursts.
She pushed hard, adding a glob of her spit to the mix to improve the lubrication. At about 5 inches depth, she met real resistance.
“Nah … No … Fuck …” Mart swore, shaking his head from side to side.
She stopped, leaving the dildo wedged inside him, and picked up the sodden panties and roll of sticky tape that she’d gagged him with earlier.
“Take it like a man, Mart.”
She quickly gagged him again and taped his mouth shut. He could still mewl and moan but only on low volume.
Slowly now, taking her time, she pushed it another 2 inches inside, marvelling at the way his sphincter kept trying to fight its losing battle. She teased him, tittering as each extra fraction of an inch produced more indignant ‘mwoah’ noises. She stopped when it was as far in his butt as she’d managed to get it up her own pussy.
“Let’s take a break darling.” She said, leaning down to plonk a giggling kiss on his right buttock. “Never say I don’t kiss your ass too !”
She tore a piece of sticky tape off and used it to secure the dildo in position like a flag atop a mountain.
“Now, I think you’re ready to meet your new Master.”
The bedroom door opened.
Mart couldn’t see at first, over his own body. Then, like a monster rising from the deep, a grinning face appeared above his dangling balls.
Dylan !
Of all the guys in the world.
He roared behind his gag and shook his wrists and ankles in a futile attempt to get free. Ashamed salty tears spouted from his eyes onto his cheeks.
Dylan and Kelly seemed to study him like he was a fish in an aquarium. All he could see was their blurred faces peering and fingers pointing.
“Shhhh …” Kelly hissed eventually, kindly but firmly.
“I take it you’re not pleased to see me, mate.” Dylan smirked.
They sat down on the pillows, either side of his head. Kelly stroked his perspiring forehead. He stopped shaking and calmed slightly, lying still.
“Don’t make me choose, Mart.”
He looked up at Kelly, registering her words.
“She wants both of us.” Dylan added quickly. “Look, I know you’ve just had a shock. But we’ve both discussed this. You wanted the ultimate experience Mart. Well, now you can have it.”
He shook his head. Fuck them.
“Listen !” Dylan snapped. “You’re an emotional masochist. Sure, you like a bit of physical pain, a lot of sexual denial. But above all, Mart, you want to suffer mentally and emotionally. That’s right. Isn’t it ?”
Mart shut his eyes. Well, yes, that was true.
“And I can make your dreams come true. With Kelly’s help. And your cooperation. Your oldest mate. Your Best Man. Admit it, Mart, it’s like a fucking fantasy ! And you can live it ! Look at me.”
He opened his damp eyes, blinking, chewing on the gag. The awkward position he was in had started to hurt. It was hard to breathe.
“Nobody’s going to hurt you. I like you mate. Seriously. We can all gain from this triangle. Give it a few months. A trial period.”
Dylan shrugged and looked over at Kelly.
“Until July, Mart.” Kelly took up the baton. “I’ll make you an offer. On the 8th July 2007 you can choose. That will be our first anniversary of … all this. On that day, if you’ve had enough, we will go back to how we were. If you want more, we’ll discuss it. But in the meantime, you have to live this part … to the limit.”
He lay still sucking air in through his flared nostrils. His legs were cramping. His bottom felt stuffed and uncomfortable.
“That’s better.” She continued. “Be cool. Stay calm.”
He saw Dylan eyeing the black dildo interestedly. “That hurt ?”
Slowly Mart nodded his head to indicate that it did.
Dylan reached out and put his fingers on the protruding base of the dildo like a man poised over the launch button of a missile. Mart froze.
“I think we should give Mart a few minutes alone to think.”
He patted Mart’s upturned buttock like a farmer stroking his prize steer. Kelly nodded.
“Let’s go make a cup of tea.” She stood up and turned away. Then her head swivelled and she looked deep into his eyes. “You know you want it.”
He watched them disappear from his field of view and heard the bedroom door close.
He felt ridiculous and pained. At first, when Dylan had appeared, his erection had shrivelled faster than spaghetti in boiling water. But somehow he had hardened again. The shame had moved from awful to exciting. He cursed himself and heard his own muted roar reverberating off his gag into his eardrums. Everything they had said was true, and that’s what annoyed him more than anything.
Was he an emotional masochist ?
Did he want the ultimate experience ?
Was he prepared to live it to the limit ?
Did he want to live such an awful, fucking fantasy ?
She knew. They knew.
Mart knew.
He wanted it.
Nick was just finishing scrubbing their ensuite bathroom when Naomi arrived home brandishing a couple of expensive-looking shopping bags.
It was past four and she’d been gone all day but he didn’t complain. Her spending their money, while he toiled at home, was dead centre of his fantasies.
She smiled coyly at him, putting her bags down on the bed.
“Busy day ?”
He rubbed the base of his back. “Yeah.”
She sat down and lifted her knees. “Take off my shoes will you.”
He knelt and slid them off, rubbing her feet soothingly.
“Mmm …” she said in approval, lying back on the bed.
He carried on massaging her soles then slowly put his lips to her toes. She giggled, twiddling them. Taking her playfulness as a positive sign, he slid his lips up her calves, over her stockings, towards her skirt.
She swatted him away gently.
“No. I’ve walked miles. Go run me a bath.”
Reluctantly, he pulled away and walked through to set the taps running.
He suddenly thought of Mart. He felt a growing bond. In houses all over the country, normal guys were watching TV, or playing football, out with the kids, drinking at the pub, having an afternoon fuck with the missus, preparing to go out with a girlfriend, or to a club hunting for skirt.
And yet, in a few places, a small number of men like him and Mart were toiling over ironing boards or doing the washing up, while their wives and girlfriends relaxed. A smaller number still would be wearing chastity devices or lending their charge cards to women to melt the plastic.
He put two fingers in the filling bath to test its temperature.
And a tiny number like Mart even allowed their women to fuck other men.
He pulled his hand out of the water. It was too hot. Ouch !
“How do you tell a man is lying ?” Kelly giggled into her glass.
“His lips are moving.” Mart replied with a groan.
The three of them were sat at the kitchen table, with the remnants of supper round them; Kelly in the middle, Mart and Dylan sat either side of her.
“Women lie too.” Dylan retorted mock-indignantly. “And cheat !”
Kelly pouted. “I don’t cheat.” She paused, taking another swig of wine. “I just have sex with other men !”
She watched Dylan laugh and exchange glances with her husband in the candlelight. A few hours and some alcohol had calmed Mart down. He wanted it.
“What’s the most common male lie ?” Dylan asked.
“I’ll respect you in the morning.” Mart replied.
Dylan shook his head. “Nope.”
Kelly chuckled. She knew this one.
“I promise not to cum in your mouth !”
“Exactly.” Dylan said, patting her on her hand. On her wedding band.
They sat in silence for the moment. But she knew it wasn’t an awkward silence any longer. Just a gentle calm before the storm.
“Give me four good reasons for not being an egg.” She asked them.
Mart groaned again. “You only get hard once.”
Dylan grinned. “Sounds a bit like Mart’s life.”
“You only get laid once.” Mart continued. “You only get to cum in a box with eleven others.”
Dylan laughed, clearly not having heard the joke before.
“I’ve forgotten the fourth.” Mart said, staring into his empty glass.
“Only your mother gets to sit on your face !” Kelly announced.
Dylan chuckled loudly. “Now that’s not like Mart’s life. His wife gets to sit on his face often.”
Kelly punched Dylan in the ribs good-naturedly.
They all three sat for a longer silence, the mood tensing.
Dylan looked up at her, then at Mart, and exhaled. “Ready ?”
She glanced at Mart. They both nodded.
“Mart,” Dylan continued, “As I said earlier, Kelly and I have discussed this already. She wants me to take charge. There will be some changes round here. New rules and regulations. Is that clear ?”
Kelly reached for the red wine and filled her glass. She tipped the remainder in Dylan’s. She ignored Mart’s empty glass.
“I … guess s … so.” Mart stammered. “What rules ?”
Dylan patted his finger to his nose. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
Kelly slowly pulled the chain from around her neck and laid it on the table. The key to Mart’s chastity device glinted in the candlelight.
Dylan picked up the chain and twirled it in his fingers.
“First things first. I’ll look after this.”
She enjoyed the sigh of silent indignation that Mart breathed. She had always found it hard being his Keyholder. Well, not hard, but it was difficult to stay strong once a few weeks had gone by. Nine months ago she’d imagined that they would continue to have quite frequent sex. Meanwhile, the device would stop Mart masturbating so he’d be desperate for her. But the reality was that penetrative sex with Mart was … unnecessary. It wasn’t awful, it was simply something she’d grown out of. She loved him and, as an occasional bonding experience it was emotionally important, but that was all. It wasn’t even the other men. She doubted she’d have frequent penetrative sex with Mart much even if she were celibate. Other things were more fun. He had taught her she didn’t need his dick. So the removal of his Gerecke was only really something she did out of pity. And for health reasons. Once a month or so. But Dylan had no such qualms. He knew about something called milking without orgasms and was determined to be much stricter with Mart than she’d been.
“Secondly, I shall be moving in here. Kelly and I want to have a trial living together, not just being girlfriend and occasional stud. But we both want you here too Mart. Under our bed, or in the guest room, doing duties around the house, on call twenty four seven.”
“What about Jack ?”
“I spoke to him.” Kelly answered. “His secretary can begin Wednesday next week after all, so he can cope without you for just two days. You’re dismissed. He said thanks by the way.”
“You will wear female clothes while indoors.” Dylan continued. “I hear you have a nice pink tutu and bonnet, huh ?”
“Mart’s not into the tranny scene, are you ?”
Mart looked from her to Dylan and back.
“All the more reason to enforce the rule.” Dylan announced with a smirk. “There’ll be lots more but”, he looked at his watch, “it’s Mart’s bedtime.”
The next morning, Mart stood in a freezing cold shower and scrubbed his hair, body and freshly shaved genitals. The heating in the guest bathroom was turned off and his teeth chattered as he dried himself afterwards, under Kelly’s watchful supervision. His dick was shrivelled and blue with cold.
Kelly was still dressed in her white fluffy robe, but she had already brushed her hair and put on her make up. She pointed Mart to the door.
He followed her down the corridor to her and Dylan’s bedroom suite.
Mart stopped in surprise. Dylan had set up a camera on a tripod at the end of the double bed and he was hunched over it, looking into the viewer.
“Hi guys. Ready ?” he asked, chirpily. Mart couldn’t deny Dylan’s looks. Even growing up when they were both awkward and spotty, girls had flocked to Dylan. He was naked but for a pair of running shorts. His 6’ 2” tall body was in great shape, with a six-pack stomach, broad shoulders and just the right amount of manly hair. There was a large bulge in his shorts.
“Cold was it ?” Dylan observed, looking down at Mart’s naked groin.
Kelly tittered. “Hurry.” She ushered Mart next to her. Dylan made a final adjustment to the camera then moved to the other side of her.
She hurriedly shucked off her robe and Dylan dragged down his shorts.
Mart suddenly realised that they were all three posing for a nude photo. Kelly was pretty in the middle, with one man either side.
One man who was tall, dark, handsome, fit, manly and well endowed.
The other who was less tall, less good looking, less manly and hairless.
With a tiny pin-prick.
“Smile !”
The camera flashed.
They took over 30 photos but that first one was the worst.
Dylan ran off several large, glossy copies on his colour printer and they stood in silver frames around the house; on the stand by Kelly’s side of the bed, in their ensuite bathroom, and even on the oval table in the living room. Unless they were ‘non approving visitors’, most people who came round in the months ahead saw the photo.
Saw why Kelly would choose one man over the other.
But she shared others in that first album with her close friends and, later, with an increasingly wide circle. Shots of Mart crouching at their feet while she and Dylan posed like big game hunters over their kill. Shots of him bent over while Dylan caned his butt until it was the colour of baboon cheeks. A shot of him kneeling face up with her ass on his nose.
There would be no easy going back.
Two days later, Kelly met Naomi in a coffee shop in town.
Mart was busy chauffeuring Dylan over to his house to pack up a load of stuff and bring it over, while Nick was out all day at work.
“So ?” Kelly asked, cupping her hands round her mug.
Nao rolled her eyes. “Straight to the nitty gritty, huh ?”
“Yep.”
“Look, you have to promise …”
“Cross my heart.”
Nao paused, looked down at her coffee, then raised her head. Her eyes spoke volumes.
“Fabulous.”
“Didn’t I tell you ? How many times ?”
“Twice. Once at his home on Saturday and once at his office yesterday. Thanks for clearing Mart out of there, by the way !”
“What did you do ?”
Nao giggled. “That’s a bit personal. All the usual stuff.”
“And you got off ?”
“Sure. I was a bit tense. But … hey, it was better than for ages.”
“Nick ?”
“Not a clue.”
“You gonna tell him ?”
“Hell no. He’d have a fit. Divorce me.”
Kelly pouted. She just wished Nao would bite the bullet. Cuckolding is so much better than infidelity. None of that skulking around and guilt.
“You going to carry on ?”
“Hard to stop when you’ve had a couple of French fries.”
“Tell Nick. He won’t divorce you. I swear.”
Nao made a face to indicate she didn’t agree. “How’s things with you ?”
“Incredible. This is the one, Nao.”
“What do you mean ?”
“This is the keeper.”
“What ?! You mean … like … long term.”
“Like till death do us part. Well, maybe.”
“You’re kidding. What about Mart ?”
“Mart ? He ain’t going anywhere. It’s a threesome, Nao. A ‘ménage a trois’. Each of us gets everything we need.”
“Damn ! Mart’s sweetness and reliability and Dyl’s sexiness and alpha personality. Plus Mart’s money. I mean, your money !”
“Heck of a combo, yeah ?”
“Is Dylan great in bed ?”
“Now you’re getting a bit personal ?”
Nao simply drummed her fingers on the coffee shop table.
“Great.” Kelly replied. “But it’s not just the bed bit. He’s just so damn kinky. Funny how you can know somebody over twenty years and never have a clue what they’re like behind the curtains.”
“Do you remember about … maybe fifteen years ago ? There were rumours. He had some girlfriend who was supposed to be super-submissive. They said he liked bondage and domination and did all kinds of stuff with her.”
Kelly smiled. “No. Back then we weren’t seeing Dylan any more. Mart had a bust up with him. I’ll ask him about that. But, hey, he certainly likes his fun.”
“You lucky tart.” Nao said, finishing her coffee.
“You make your own luck. I mean it. Tell Nick.”
Mart drove.
Dylan was in the back of the car, bidding by phone for some expensive piece of art at Sothebys. Eventually Dylan bought it for thirty thousand pounds ! He never knew Dylan made that kind of money.
“Fuck !” Dylan exclaimed, snapping his phone closed. “Got it !”
In the mirror, Mart watched him open the phone again and hit a key.
“Hi. We got it !”
There was a pause. A trickle of sweat dampened his collar.
“I love you, K. Thanks a million. It will look perfect above the bed. I could never have bought it without you. Mwah !”
For the entire journey he never uttered a single word to Mart.
“Please, Sir. May I use the bathroom ?”
He remembered how embarrassed he used to feel the previous summer asking Kelly for permission. But asking a man was much worse.
Dylan flipped down the newspaper and peered at him.
“How many times have you been today ?”
“Once, Sir.”
It was after six in the evening. He’d used the toilet to pee after breakfast but not since. His bladder was full.
“I suppose so.” Dylan eventually replied grudgingly. “What ?”
“Just urine, Sir.”
“Well I suppose that’s some kind of blessing. Okay. Use the big red salad bowl.”
Kelly walked in just as he was finishing.
“There you are, Mart. Tell me, what’s a girl gotta do to get a vodka tonic round here ?”
“Sorry Mistress.”
Mart fluffed his ballet skirt back into position and carefully carried the sloshing bowl out to the kitchen. Moments later he returned with his wife’s vodka, ice, lime and tonic.
Then he returned to the kitchen and continued fixing their supper.
Kelly lay on the squidgy sofa with Dylan watching the TV.
Mart knelt between her knees, sensuously licking between her thighs. She knew it was his favourite comedy program on TV but he had his back to the screen. She was light-headed with lust and alcohol. She’d been tired the previous night and retired to bed at ten, leaving Dylan watching some soccer match on TV. He’d come up long after she was asleep and they’d overslept that morning. Nowadays, a 48 hours gap between climaxes left her gagging for sex.
She reached out and pulled Dylan’s face to her.
He smiled and kissed her full on the lips. They swapped tongues.
“Mmm …” he murmured. “I think you’re a bit horny.”
“A bit ?” she gasped. “Please …”
“You’re too far ahead. Let me catch up.” He looked down. “Mart !”
She felt Mart’s lips leave her skin. “Yes, Sir.”
“Remove my shoes.”
She watched and listened as, piece by piece, Mart was ordered to take off Dylan’s shoes, socks, jeans and, finally, his briefs. She leaned her head down and took Dylan’s erection between her lips. Mart’s eyes were locked on hers.
“Put my underpants over your head.”
She smiled as Mart stretched the elastic of Dylan’s white cotton Y-fronts and pulled them over his head. His green eyes peered out through one of the leg holes. There was a yellowish stain in the front of the briefs.
“Watch, Mart. How do you like your wife sucking my dick ?”
She saw her husband almost hyperventilating, staring at her slurping lips.
“I … I … don’t know …”
“Did you like it when she used to do it to you ?”
“I … yes … but it was a long time …”
She responded to Dylan’s words, doing her best to slide him deep into her mouth, then rolling her tongue along the underside vein so Mart could see.
“You’re not worthy Mart. Tell her you never want her to suck yours again.”
Kelly focused on Mart’s pupils. She wanted to hear and see the words.
“I …’m not worthy, Mistress. Please n … never suck my … dick again.”
She took her mouth off the end of Dylan’s throbbing shaft and gulped her saliva.
“I never intended to darling. But thanks anyway.” She winked at him mischievously.
Dylan rolled in towards her, lifting her head back up to face his.
“Put my dick inside your wife !” he ordered brusquely.
She watched as Mart’s hands slid between them, one fumbling her well prepared labia open, the other tentatively guiding Dylan’s thickness in.
Once Dylan was comfortable, thrusting into her on the sofa, she smiled at Mart again.
“Come behind the sofa now and kiss me on the forehead. Take off those things.” Mart obeyed, removing the Y-fronts from his head and leaning down to kiss her softly. It was Dylan’s turn to watch.
“Tell me how much you love seeing me enjoying myself like this.”
“It … is my greatest … thrill.” Mart croaked.
“You won’t deny me this, will you ? Ever again ?”
His eyes darted. “No, Mistress.”
If this were chocolate, she felt like a woman who knew she’d never get back into her old dress size again, and her husband was saying he was fine with her new weight. Heck, he’d even buy and offer her the candy cars.
“Stand up.” She gasped, as Dylan gave her an extra big bang.
Mart stood. She trailed a hand over the back of the sofa and fingered his chastity device. It was a twisted tube of stainless steel 3.5 inches long and less than 1.5 inches in diameter, with a padlock in the top.
His dick had expanded as much as the steel allowed.
“Ooh, that looks a bit uncomfortable.” She half-cooed, half-slurred.
“Y …es …” he gasped.
“Don’t go getting any ideas above your station.” Dylan grunted.
“No, Sir.”
“Bugger off and do the washing up now. Give us a bit of privacy.”
Kelly turned her full attention back to Dylan.
By late March, Spring was definitely in the air. The whole month had been dry, sunny and pretty warm. England looked at its best with lush green fields, bulbs bursting into flower and skies a clear, pollution-free blue.
But Portugal beckoned. Kelly and Dylan planned to fly down there, taking Mart, to spend most of April working on the new house. They had some visits planned by friends and even Chantal was coming over for 36 hours, which would require some ‘discretion’.
Most of all though, Dylan’s design for the house would allow Mart’s slavery to be taken to another level. The local crew of builders and labourers had raised a few eyebrows but they were happy enough to construct anything at the right price.
The day before the flight, Kelly drove into town to her bank and withdrew a chunk of cash, verified her balance, paid a couple of bills and checked her safety deposit box. She smiled at the papers Mart had signed giving her everything.
Legally dubious, probably unenforceable, and almost certainly unnecessary.
The coming month was going to be a hoot. An amusing hoax.
An extended bdsm game to end all games.
She just hoped she wasn’t being foolish.
Playing the fool was Mart’s role.
April Fool.
End of Part Nine
To be continued in Part Ten (April)
|
|
|