As Carolyn finished her bath and stepped out of the tub, I stood up and began to dry her off with a large soft towel. She looked into the mirror over the sink, staring at me as I ran the towel over her back and buttocks.
"I need to dry off my chest and stomach," she said.
I handed the towel to her and watched as she casually wiped the beads of moisture from the front of her lovely body. She gave me back the bath towel and instructed me to dry off her legs and feet. When that was finally done, Carolyn handed me a plastic bottle of body lotion. I squirted some of the creamy liquid on my right hand, put the bottle down on the top of the toilet, and rubbed both of my hands briskly together so that the lotion wouldn't be cold. I then began to apply it to my wife's body, doing her legs first and gradually working my way up. I gently massaged her muscles as I rubbed the lotion into her soft, bare skin, listening to the sounds of contentment that were coming from her mouth.
Carolyn enjoyed being pampered.
When we were finished, I followed my wife out of the bathroom and into the master bedroom.
This was her room.
I generally slept in one of the spare bedrooms down the short hallway and was never allowed in my wife's room without her explicit permission.
"What do you think I should wear tonight?" Carolyn asked as she stepped over to her large walk-in closet. She opened its two accordion doors and then stood there for a few moments, staring silently at the massive display of clothing. "Maybe I should go with black leather."
"You don't want to scare poor Jonathan away," I answered. "It might be better to go with your tight tan skirt and the dark brown, long sleeved silk blouse. I think that would be sexy. You could wear your brown leather jacket over it."
"Yes, I like that, Daniel. What about underneath the outfit?"
"Except for the nylons, I would keep everything the same color."
"Dark brown?"
"Yes," I said.
"What kind of lingerie should I wear?"
"My suggestion is a lacey, push-up bra with matching garter belt and panties," I replied, knowing that her new lover would be turned on by it. "I also think a full-length slip with spaghetti straps and skin-tone nylons with seams up the back would be extra sexy. That'll have Jonathan forming at the mouth in no time at all."
"Seams are hard to keep straight," Carolyn said.
"Yes, they are," I agreed. "Still, seams on the back of stockings have an intense psychological affect on a man's psyche. When Jonathan sees them, the only thing that's going to be on his mind is the mysteriousness of what's underneath your skirt. That's the way it is with men."
"He already knows what's up there, darling."
"It doesn't matter," I stated. "It's all in the mind. Besides, tonight is a little different. You want him to be in a state of heat so that he'll be more willing to play your sexual games."
"Yes, I do."
"Then go with the seams."
This was going to be my wife's third get-together with Jonathan. They had met in the lounge at the Venetian Hotel the week before. My wife liked to occasionally scope out the lounges around Las Vegas in search of new and interesting lovers. She was the type of woman who needed a great deal of diversity in her life and a continuous flow of young, intelligent, and well-endowed men into her bed kept the fires burning brightly. It also kept the intensity of our own love life at a fever pitch and that was certainly fine with me.
The last two dates that Carolyn had with her new lover had ended up back at his apartment, but tonight she intended to bring him to our home to see just how far the envelope could be pushed at this early stage of the game. Though my wife thought there was the possibility of having a long-term relationship with Jonathan, she needed to make sure that he was suitable for what she had in mind. Carolyn also wanted to demonstrate her dominance over me in front of him so that he would feel more comfortable in having sex with her with me in the background. She'd already explained to him that our marriage was based on the belief of female domination and that I was treated as her personal slave. Still, she wanted him to experience our lifestyle on a first-hand basis so that he would understand that I had absolutely no say-so in her affairs and that he was free to come (no pun intended) over every night and make love to her, if that was what they both desired.
"Get everything ready for me while I put on my make-up," Carolyn said.
As she walked over to her vanity table and sat down in front of it, I went over to the stereo system in the far corner of the bedroom and put on a CD that was the soundtrack to the movie, Somewhere In Time. Carolyn and I loved the music to this particular movie for it seemed to express the strong emotions that we both felt for each other.
I listened to the soft music fill the bedroom as I entered the walk-in closet and picked out the tan skirt, the brown silk blouse, and a pair of dark brown shoes with four-inch heels on them. Carrying the clothes out of the closet and over to the king-size bed, I laid the skirt and blouse on top of the black comforter and set the shoes down on the floor. Then, moving over to the wardrobe chest that was located next to the dresser bureau, I opened its wooden doors.
The top drawer of the tall chest held my wife's panties, neatly folded and arranged by color, while the one just below it contained her brassieres, girdles, corsets, and garter belts. The third drawer was filled pantyhose, regular nylons, workout tights for the gym, and socks, and the fourth one held an array of different styles of slips. I gathered the articles of clothing I needed out of the drawers and took them over to the bed. Knowing that it would be awhile before Carolyn was finished putting on her make-up, I knelt down at the foot of the bed and assumed the position of a slave, placing my hands behind my back and my face to the floor.
Twenty minutes past by before my wife was ready to get dressed. She switched off the lights on her vanity table, stood up, and walked over to where I was kneeling.
"You look so natural in that position," she said.
I didn't say anything.
"Would you like to help me get dressed?"
"Yes, Mistress," I replied.
"Hand me the garter belt," Carolyn instructed.
Rising to my knees, I picked up the garter belt from off the bed and gave it to her. My wife smiled down at me as she wrapped the lacey piece of lingerie around her waist and then turned around so that I could fasten the back of it for her. After I connected the eyehooks on the back of the garter belt, she sat down on the edge of the bed and asked me to give her one of the nylons.
This was the best part of helping Carolyn to get dressed.
I loved to watch her as she put on a pair of stockings. I couldn't think of anything more sensual than when a woman performed this rather simple, but extremely intoxicating act. It was my one weakness, and Carolyn used it to her full advantage. She had long, beautiful legs (the kind of legs a model would kill for) that seemed to go on forever and seeing those legs incased in a pair of sheer nylons brought out the submissive side of my personality. I wanted to kneel before those legs…to kiss them…to run my hands up and down them, delighting in the sensation of nylon against flesh…to place my face between them so I could service my Mistress like a well-trained slave.
Grabbing one of the nylons from the bed, I positioned myself in front of Carolyn and then handed it to her. She quickly rolled the piece of hosiery up into a little ball and slipped it gingerly over the toes of her right foot. Then, stretching her leg out past my head, she slowly unrolled the nylon down her ankle, calf and thigh. It was a gorgeous sight to behold. I could fill a thickening in the front of my pants as a wave of sexual heat flooded through my body.
"Would you like to kiss my foot like a good slave?" she asked.
"Yes, Mistress."
As Carolyn fastened the two garter tabs to the top of the stocking, I took her right foot in my hand like it was a priceless artifact and softly kissed it with outright love and adoration.
"I need the other nylon," she said.
I released her foot, grabbed the second nylon, and handed it to her. She then repeated the process with her left leg. After my wife fastened the garters on the left side of her body, I slipped the dark brown stiletto-heeled shoes onto her feet and she stood up, towering over me like a true Goddess.
"My panties, please."
"Yes, Mistress."
I got her satin panties and then helped her to step into them. She pulled them teasingly up her legs and over the garter belt, putting on a sexy little show for me. Whenever Carolyn wore panties, she always made it a habit to wear them on the outside of the garter belt so that accessibility for sex would be easier. There'd been one night when she had met a man in a lounge, and they'd gone outside to the dark alleyway in the back and had sex. He had made her lean up against the wall of the lounge like cops do to suspects in the movies. The guy then pulled Carolyn's skirt up to her waist, ripped off her panties, and fucked her from behind as cars drove by only a short distance away.
Accessibility.
That was my wife's motto.
I watched as Carolyn put on the bra and slip, then her blouse and skirt. She not only looked beautiful and sexy, but classy as well. Walking over to the dresser bureau, she picked up a brush and began to comb her long brown hair. I could literally feel my heart expanding with such unbelievable joy for this woman who made my life so complete in every way imaginable.
Is it possible for a person to express the deep-rooted love that exists between a dominant female and her submissive husband? Perhaps there are no words to adequately describe the coming together of these two unique individuals. I do know that when a man kneels before his wife and offers his mind, body and soul to her in servitude, desiring only to please her in whatever way she chooses, it is only then that he truly understands his one purpose in life…his sole reason for existing. I couldn't help but wonder how many people would be able to grasp the concept that when a dominant female instructs her husband in the art of obedience by whipping him, she's expressing her own pure love for his essence and well being?
Not many.
Even less would be able to understand a submissive husband's expression of love through the act of bathing and then dressing his wife in preparation for her date with another man. It made me realize that each couple must find what works best for them, ignoring the norms of society, trusting their own desires, wanting only to please each other. A philosopher once said that to understand the true nature of love is to be enlightened.
I couldn't agree more.
"I love you," I said to my wife.
She looked at my reflection in the mirror and smiled.
That I worshipped this woman more than life itself was no secret to those who knew us. My feelings for her were blatantly obvious. It could be no other way with this remarkable and breathtaking individual. In many ways she was the personification of the Earth Goddess and therefore the creator and protector of all; yet, there was also the dark side that reminded me of the Hindu Goddess Kali. My wife could have a man quivering in his shoes with just a look of her dark eyes. In a sense, she was the epitome of every submissive male's fantasy: beautiful, sexy, intelligent, creative, extremely aggressive in the work place, firm in her beliefs on how a man should treat her, and utterly ruthless in the infliction of punishment when displeased with the behavior of a male.
When Carolyn had agreed to marry me, she did so with a number of stipulations that were non-negotiable.
The first was that I sign a contract stating that I willingly gave up all of my rights as a husband and agreed to serve her as a personal slave. The document further stated that she'd have complete freedom to take other lovers during the course of our marriage with my full knowledge and approval. I, on the other hand, would be required to be not only faithful, but celibate as well. My sexual outlet would be strictly monitored and controlled by Carolyn at all times. I would be permitted no orgasm without her explicit permission. The document was to be signed by both of us, witnessed by her lawyer, and notarized.
The second rule was that all my paychecks from work would be immediately turned over to her. She'd control the finances of our marriage. This would ensure my dependence on her and make me more complacent to her wishes.
The third stipulation had to do with the household chores. It would be my responsibility to keep our home cleaned to her specifications, to do the laundry on a weekly basis, to keep up the lawn, to wash and wax the cars, do the grocery shopping, run any errands, make up the beds each and every morning, etc., etc. My wife would have her own bedroom, while I would sleep in another.
The next rule was that she be pampered on a daily basis with foot and body massages. At times it would be my job to bathe Carolyn and help prepare her for dates with other men. I would also be sexually submissive to her. I was to be available at all times to sexually please her in whatever way she demanded.
Another stipulation was that I lose a certain amount of weight and then maintain myself at that weight through daily exercise and healthy eating. She didn't want me dying at an early age.
The final rule was absolute obedience to her every command. Disobedience, sarcasm, anger, or the silent treatment on my part would result in swift punishment. Carolyn had a number of expensive riding crops that were capable of causing severe pain, not to mention a thick wooden paddle that could quickly change a man's attitude with just a minute or two of forceful use. My wife had no hesitation in administering a hard whipping in order to correct non-desirable behavior. Sometimes, however, the look on her face would be enough to do the trick.
"What time is it?" Carolyn asked.
"Seven-fifteen," I said.
"Jonathan will be here in a few minutes. While we're gone, I want you to do the laundry and give the house a general cleaning. That should keep you occupied until we get back."
"Yes, Mistress."
"Remember to wash my lingerie in Woolite."
"I'll remember."
"How do I look?" she asked, turning around and modeling for me.
"Like a Goddess," I said, rising to my feet.
Carolyn came over and kissed me gently on the lips. "I don't know if Jonathan will be spending the night or not. If he doesn't, you may come to my room after he leaves."
"I'll like that very much."
My wife bent over, lifted the hem of her skirt, and readjusted the garter tabs on each stocking. I found myself becoming aroused again by her actions. Of course, I was always turned on whenever Carolyn was around. I think a lot of men felt the same way about her. Smoothing down her skirt, my wife gave me another kiss and then went downstairs to wait for Jonathan.
I started collecting the dirty clothes, sheets, and towels from both of our rooms and was in the process of carrying them downstairs when the front doorbell rang. I heard Carolyn answer the door as I came down the steps. Rounding the corner of the stairway, I saw her and Jonathan kissing in the foyer.
I suddenly felt like a voyeur.
When they finished the kiss, Jonathan looked up in my direction and nodded his head in acknowledgement. Carolyn turned around, stared up at me, and offered me one of her tantalizing smiles.
"We'll be back around eleven," she stated.
"Have a good time," I said.
Jonathan waved nonchalantly as they walked out the front door. He seemed like a pleasant fellow. I knew my wife was very pleased with how the relationship was developing.
Walking across the foyer, I closed the door behind them and then carried the basket of dirty clothes out to the washroom.
I had the house cleaned and the laundry washed by ten o'clock. My wife would now be able to make love to Jonathan on clean sheets when they returned later in the evening. Since I more or less had the rest of the night to myself, I decided to do some writing on my computer. I went to my bedroom, sat down at the small desk in the corner, and turned on the computer. I'd been working on a short story for the last week about a hitchhiker trying to catch a ride on a deserted piece of beach highway…a highway that was supposedly haunted by the ghost of a woman who had died in a car crash years before. I had a couple of pages left to write and had figured out an ending that would surprise the reader.
By the time my wife and her lover got home, I had the first draft of the story completed. I heard the front door open and the sound of voices downstairs. I could hear Carolyn laughing happily at something Jonathan must have said. A few minutes passed before they started up the staircase.
"My bedroom is down there," Carolyn said to him as they entered the upstairs hallway. "I need to see how Daniel is doing."
"Don't be long," her lover said.
"I won't."
I turned around in the chair as Carolyn walked into my bedroom. "How did the evening go?" I asked.
She came over and stood beside me at the desk. "We had dinner at Sergio's," she said, "and then we went dancing at C2K."
"Sounds like you had a good time."
"It was wonderful," Carolyn stated as she bent over and kissed me on the cheek. "Did you get all of the cleaning done?"
"Yes," I answered. "The laundry's done and the house is clean for another week."
"You're such a good slave."
"I finished the first draft of "No Hitchhiking."
"Can I read it?"
"I need to do a quick rewrite to polish it up and correct any mistakes," I said. "It should be ready to read by tomorrow night."
"I can't wait. Listen, I want you to go downstairs to the kitchen and get the bottle of Asti out of the refrigerator. Open it, then put the bottle in a bucket of ice and bring it up to the bedroom with two glasses."
"Okay."
Carolyn took my right hand and placed it on her leg as she kissed me again. I felt the impression of garter tabs beneath the skirt. I found myself becoming aroused as her lips moved to my mouth. I could feel the tip of her tongue pressing forward, pushing its way between my lips. My hand gradually worked its way under her skirt, sliding up the sheer nylon to the warm flesh of her thigh. I suddenly felt Carolyn's hand on the crotch of my jeans, rubbing my erection, teasing me with the expectation of things to come.
Pulling her lips away from mine, but keeping her hand pressed firmly to the hard mound of flesh in the front of my jeans, she stared into my eyes with an intensity that startled me.
"You know that I love you," she whispered.
"Yes," I said.
"When you hear the sounds of Jonathan making love to me tonight, I want you to picture him in your mind, buried deeply within my body, bringing me pleasure, satisfying me in ways few other men have been able to do."
"Yes, Mistress.'
Carolyn released her hold on me and straightened back up. I watched as she turned around and walked out of my room, her hips swishing seductively. Taking a deep breath, I rose to my feet and went downstairs to get the bottle of white wine for my wife and her new lover.
Entering the kitchen, I immediately went to the refrigerator and took out the cold bottle of wine. I removed the tin foil from the top of the bottle and then unwound the wire netting from around the cork. Carefully popping the cork so that none of wine ran out, I set the bottle down on the counter and reached up to one of the top cabinets. I pulled out a metal tray and ice bucket. I put the bottle into the bucket, then took out four trays of ice cubes from the freezer and emptied them one by one into the metal bucket. That would keep the wine fairly cold for at least an hour or longer. I took two wine glasses from the cabinet and then carried everything upstairs to my wife's bedroom. I knocked on the partially closed door and heard the sound of Carolyn's voice telling me to come in. Pushing the door open with my foot, I entered the room and saw my wife sitting on the end of her bed. She sat there in her slip, leaning back with legs crossed, as a naked Jonathan knelt in front of her and passionately kissed her left foot. I caught a brief glimpse of her stocking tops as I walked across the room and put everything down on her dresser bureau.
"Pour me a glass of wine, darling," Carolyn said to me.
I took the bottle out of the bucket and poured my wife a glass of wine. Replacing the bottle back inside the bucket of ice, I carried the glass over to her. She took the glass from me and sipped at the chilled wine, her eyes never leaving my face.
"Kiss me," she ordered.
I bent down, put my hand behind her head, and pulled her close to me. I kissed her softly on the lips. To my surprise, the kiss quickly turned into something more passionate and erotic. I heard Carolyn moan with pleasure as our tongues probed each other's mouths. I could feel myself becoming sexually aroused and wondered what my wife was up to.
When Carolyn finally broke off the kiss, she stared up at me for a moment with a smile of delight on her face. She then glanced down at Jonathan and the smile grew bigger. I turned to see what she was looking at. Her lover was still on his knees, kissing her foot like a true submissive. What I hadn't noticed before was that he had a huge erection jutting out before him. I found myself both impressed and intimidated by the sheer size of his sexual organ, suddenly understanding why my wife was hoping for a long-term relationship with this gentleman. I also understood why she'd ordered me to kiss her in front of her nude lover. Carolyn had wanted me to see the size of Jonathan's erection, knowing the psychological affect it would have. She knew, as only a woman can, that when I returned to my bedroom, it would be impossible for me not to picture his large penis penetrating her vulva, filling her completely, carrying her to a new level of sexual abandonment that I'd only dreamed about. There were few things that could make me feel more submissive or insecure than knowing just how much sexual pleasure another man was giving my wife. As her husband and slave, it was a humiliation that I was required to bear.
"You may go," Carolyn said.
I looked at her and saw the recognition of my plight in her eyes. She offered me a gentle smile to lighten the pain I was experiencing as a cuckolded husband. Standing back up, I walked out of the room and closed the door behind me.
I went back downstairs and got a glass of milk and a box of Famous Amos cookies. I carried the snack back up to my room and sat down in front of the computer to start on the rewrite. I wrote for nearly thirty minutes, smoothing out the sentence structure and making corrections as I came across them.
It was the sound of my wife and Jonathan making love that finally caused me to stop writing. Carolyn's bedroom was only twenty feet down the hall from mine and the walls were thin. I'd also left my bedroom door open. Since my wife was extremely passionate and vocal during sex, it came as no surprise that I'd be able to hear her from my room. I got up from the desk and stepped out into the hallway where the sounds of their lovemaking were more audible. I could actually hear Jonathan grunting with effort as he drove his manhood repeatedly into my wife. It wasn't long before she had her first orgasm. Her voice rose to a fever pitch as she cried out in wild ecstasy. I couldn't stop myself from picturing Jonathan on top of my wife, driving into her with long, deep thrusts as his buttocks pumped up and down. I could see Carolyn's stocking-covered legs wrapped tightly around his lower back. I could hear her voice as she whispered to him not to hold back…to let it happen…to cum inside of her. Jonathan's ejaculation would be hard and powerful. His sperm would fill my wife's womb to capacity.
It put me in an acute state of sexual heat.
Turning around, I left the door open as I went back into my room. I switched off the light and lay down on the bed. I could still hear them quite vividly from where I was.
The hours passed.
It was almost two o'clock in the morning when Jonathan finally left. I was a little surprised by his departure. I'd actually expected him to spend the night with my wife. I listened as they walked down the staircase, talking softly to one another. The front door was opened, then a minute of silence followed before it was closed. I pictured them kissing and saying goodnight…their hands lingering for a few seconds on the body of the other. I held my breath as Carolyn came back up the steps. I was filled with avid anticipation. She entered my bedroom and stood just inside the doorway, looking quietly at me. I could see that she had a robe on.
"Do you want to sleep with me?" she asked.
"Yes," I replied.
As I got off the bed and began to remove my clothes, Carolyn turned around and went back to her room. I followed her a minute later. The lights were off in the master bedroom. Still, I could see my wife snuggled up under the covers of her bed. I climbed into the bed beside her, feeling the wet sheets beneath me, and placed my left arm around her stomach. She quickly turned over and pressed up against my body. I could sense the urgency in her as she kissed me hard on the mouth. Jonathan had brought my wife to a number of orgasms, but she still wasn't completely satisfied. There was a need in her that only I could fulfill and I knew exactly what it was.
Pulling the covers aside, Carolyn took my head and slowly pushed it down to the junction of her body. Her legs parted for me. She guided me to the source of her power, arching her pelvis upward as I lowered my mouth to her mons veneris. I could smell the muskiness of recent sex. I kissed her pelvic bone and ran my tongue lightly over the pubic area. I unexpectedly felt her hand pressing down on my head, urging me to go lower, to please her in a way that only a slave could. I moved downward and pressed my mouth to the lips of her labia, spreading them apart with my tongue, pushing inward as I searched for her clitoris. I could already taste the semen of her lover.
There was a lot of it.
I located Carolyn's tiny bud of rapture and began to focus all of my attention on stimulating her with the tip of my tongue. She loved having me go down on her after making love with another man. My willingness to do it strengthened her position as Mistress of the house. It also demonstrated my eagerness to please her in whatever way was demanded, proving that I not only loved her, but that I wanted to be her slave in every sense of the word.
"Can you taste him?" Carolyn asked as she pressed her body hard against my face.
"Yes," I muttered.
"Good," she said.
Burying my face back into the wet vortex of her womanhood, I began to once again lick her clitoris. I could feel her thighs gripping the sides of my head, holding me firmly in place so that I couldn't escape. The hand on the back of my head increased its pressure. Her pelvis began to grind against my mouth with an insistence that demanded total satisfaction.
"Yes," she moaned. "That's it!"
I needed no encouragement with what I was doing. I knew Carolyn and what she enjoyed. Jonathan might be well endowed, but I was an expert in orally servicing my wife, pleasing her for hours at a time with my tongue, causing her to have numerous orgasms that were as powerful as the ones she had during intercourse. I did this with no thought toward my own gratification. I was a slave to my Mistress and this was one of the ways that I showed my devotion to her.
"Ahhhhhhhhhh," she cried out, now gripping my head with both hands, holding me solidly in position so that I couldn't move until the ecstatic waves of pleasure coursing through her body ended their shivering journey.
When the first orgasm gradually faded away, she rolled me over onto my back and straddled my face, riding my tongue to a second orgasm of hot intensity. We stared into each other's eyes as her pelvis ground into my mouth with a force that was almost frightening. For the next hour, I continued to service Carolyn with my tongue, bringing her to several more explosive orgasms. When she was finally satisfied with my performance as a slave, not to mention worn out, we snuggled into each other's arms and waited for sleep to overtake us.
"You know that I'll never love another man as much I do you," she whispered to me in the darkness of the bedroom.
"Yes," I said.
"I can see us growing old together."
"So can I."
"Don't ever worry about one of my lovers taking me away from you," Carolyn stated with utter conviction. "It will never happen. You're the most important person in my life and no matter how badly I treat you, it's always done with love."
"I know," I said.
Carolyn turned over with her back to me, and I pressed up against her like a spoon, gently wrapping my arm around her body and kissing her tenderly on the bare shoulder. Sleep finally arrived and we drifted slowly into the realm of dreamtime, conscious only of our pure love for each other. It was almost five-thirty when I arrived home from work. I entered the house and walked into the kitchen to check today’s mail. Carolyn had left it on the kitchen table for me to see. She usually got home between three-thirty and four o’clock. Since there was nothing important in the mail, I went upstairs to find out how my wife’s day had gone.
I went up the staircase and down the short hallway to her bedroom. The bedroom door was open, and I could hear soft music coming from her entertainment center. As I stepped into the master bedroom, I saw Carolyn standing at the dresser bureau, gazing into its mirror as she applied red lipstick to her full, sensuous lips. She was dressed in sheer black pantyhose, a black-laced pushup bra (not that she really needed one), and black leather stiletto-heeled shoes. Seeing my reflection in the mirror, Carolyn smiled at me as she finished with her lips.
“How was work?’ she asked, putting down the tube of lipstick and picking up a brush to comb her long, dark hair.
“Not too bad,” I answered. I walked over to her and then knelt down on the floor so that I could run my hands up her stocking-covered legs and kiss her perfectly rounded bottom. “Are you going out?”
“Yes,” Carolyn replied, giggling like a little girl as she felt my lips and tongue meandering up the backside of her right leg and buttock.
“Do you have a date?”
“Yes.”
I moved my attention to her left buttock, tenderly kissing it while my hand slid up between her legs. My fingers gripped her womanhood through the crotch of her pantyhose, and I suddenly felt an intense desire to pull my wife down to the carpeted floor and make love to her.
“Be careful,” she warned. “I haven’t given you permission to sexually touch me.”
“I can’t help myself. I want to make long, passionate love to you.”
“If you don’t take your hand from my crotch, I’m going to whip you.”
Even though I could now feel a slippery dampness between her legs and knew that she was enjoying my attention, I removed my hand. There was a serious tone in her voice that told me she was looking for an excuse to punish me. It had been nearly seven weeks since my last whipping. My Mistress was getting a little edgy. She didn’t like to go too long without exercising her authority. Though she’d never admit it, Carolyn loved to take me down to our soundproof basement, hang me up by my wrists so that only my toes were touching the floor, and whip me until I begged for mercy. She was quite good with a riding crop; and, given enough time, could break any man. As much as I loved and worshipped my wife, I was also a little scared of her. There was a sense of darkness to her personality that seemed to thrive on having absolute control over the male species. She knew that a man could be controlled quite easily with love, sex, or pain. Carolyn liked to use all three on me. It kept the structure of our marriage solid and me submissive to her needs and desires.
“Are you going out with Jonathan again?” I asked, kissing her bottom one last time and then standing up beside her. She’d been dating Jonathan for a couple of weeks. In fact, they’d just been together last night.
“Did I give you permission to stand up, Daniel?”
“No, Mistress.”
“Then get back down on the floor,” she commanded. “I like you on your knees. If more husbands learned to kneel before their wives, there’d be less divorces in this country.”
I got back down on my knees and placed my forehead to the floor like a good slave. After a moment or two, Carolyn turned around and touched me with the toe of her right shoe. I raised my head, stared at her foot for a second, and then did what was expected of me. I kissed the toe of her shoe with reverence, acknowledging that she was my Mistress and that I her slave.
“Yes,” she said. “My foot is all you deserve you kiss today. When you’ve earned the right, I’ll allow you to kiss my ass like a good husband.”
“Thank you, Mistress.”
Carolyn went over to her walk-in closet, opened its doors, and stepped inside to look for an outfit to wear. She came out a few minutes later with a simple leather skirt (my wife loves to wear leather), a light-blue, long-sleeved silk blouse, and a wide light-blue belt to accent it. Walking back over to the dresser bureau, Carolyn handed me the skirt and belt to momentarily hold so that she could put on the blouse. She quickly slipped it on and buttoned the front. I gave her the leather skirt, watching as she stepped into it and then tucked the bottom half of the blouse inside it, before zipping up the back. I handed her the belt, and she buckled it around her slim waist. Turning in front of the mirror, my wife examined herself to make sure her appearance was perfect.
It was.
“Is it someone new?” I asked.
“Yes, it is,” she said. “Remember me mentioning the lawyer who e-mailed me last week?”
“Vaguely. You’ve received about a hundred e-mails since putting up your page on Love@aol a month ago.”
My wife had wanted to meet a particular type of man to date. Newspaper ads hadn’t worked, nor had meeting people at her place of business. She’d decided to put an ad on the AOL website. I took a sexy picture of her with our digital camera, assisted her in answering the questions on the web page, and helped her to come up with specifications for the type of man she wanted to have an affair with. The ad ran something like this: “Very attractive, dominant, married female seeks lover to fulfill my fantasies. Must be intelligent, open-minded, have a love for adventure, be well endowed, and most importantly be willing to please me in whatever way I demand. I’m open to either a short-term or long-term relationship.”
Carolyn had gone out with three men before finally meeting Jonathan. She and Jonathan seemed to hit it off on the first date. He was handsome, in good physical condition, certainly well endowed, capable of making love several times in an evening, relaxed with the idea of the husband being nearby, and at times very submissive to my wife. She liked a man who knew his place in the scheme of things. One lover, however, would never be enough.
“Well, his name’s Richard,” she said. “He has a law practice here in the city. We’ve e-mailed each other at least a dozen times, and he’s sent me some really sexy scenarios of what would happen on our dates. Anyway, I read one of his e-mails this morning before I went to work and decided to meet with him tonight for drinks. Do you think he’s going to find me attractive?”
“Darling,” I said. “Every man you meet falls in love with you. Of course, he’s going to find you attractive and desirable. He probably won’t able to keep his hands off of you.”
“Let’s hope.”
“Where are you meeting him at?”
“Cleopatra’s Barge at Caesars,” Carolyn answered as she stepped over to the bed and picked up a small black purse that was lying on the corner edge. She opened the purse to make sure that everything she needed was inside and then snapped it closed. “I have to get going. I’m supposed to meet him there at 6:30.”
“You’d better hurry, then.”
I stood up and walked my wife downstairs. As I opened the front door for her, she kissed me lightly on the cheek.
“I want you to clean the kitchen floor while I’m gone,” she stated.
“I mopped it last night when you went out with Jonathan,” I said.
“I want you to wash the floor the hard way. That’s means getting down on your hands and knees and cleaning each tile individually, plus using a toothbrush on the grout.”
The kitchen floor was big!
“It’ll take me at least two-or-more hours to do that,” I moaned.
“I know,” Carolyn said, smiling mischievously at me. “It’ll keep you busy till I get home. It turns me on knowing that you’re hard at work around the house while I’m on a date with another man.”
“Yeah.”
“Think of me while you’re working,” she teased. “Imagine Richard’s hand sliding up my skirt as we sit at a table, having a cocktail and flirting with each other. Maybe I’ll bring him home with me tonight. That should keep you excited.”
Carolyn kissed me again and then headed out the door. I watched her walk to the car in the driveway, her hips swinging seductively under the tight leather skirt. My wife was definitely a magnet for drawing men. I thanked God that I was the type of husband who enjoyed his wife’s infidelities. That one fact made us ideally suited for each other. It would’ve been a hard life, otherwise.
Closing the door behind me, I went into the kitchen and got a bucket out from under the sink, along with a plastic bottle of Spic and Span, a sponge, a used toothbrush, a pair of rubber gloves, and a handful of dry towels. I poured some of the cleaner into the bucket, put the bucket under the sink faucet, and turned on the hot water. As the bucket filled with water, I carried the chairs to the kitchen table out into the hallway. I came back into the kitchen and thought about my battle plan. Turning off the water, I decided that it might be best to start from the far side of the kitchen and work my way back to the hall. I carried the bucket of hot, soapy water over there, laid a towel down on the floor so that I could kneel on it, then went back to the kitchen counter and got the other towels, the sponge, and the toothbrush.
This is a job for a slave! I thought, smiling to myself.
I was two-and-a-half hours into the job and just about finished when I heard the front door open, followed by the sound of voices. A minute passed, then I heard two pairs of footsteps coming down the hallway. Glancing behind me, I saw Carolyn and Richard stopping at the entrance to the kitchen.
“This is Daniel, my husband,” Carolyn said to her new boyfriend.
I took off the rubber glove on my right hand and then stood up to shake hands with him.
“I’m Richard,” he said, taking a step into the kitchen and extending his hand out to me. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Same here,” I replied as we shook hands.
“You’ve done a wonderful job on the floor,” my wife stated.
“That’s what a slave’s for.”
“Yes, it is,” she agreed. “Now, why don’t you come into the living room and make us a couple of drinks.”
I nodded my head, took off the other glove, dropped both of the gloves to the floor, and followed them into the living room. As Carolyn and Richard made themselves comfortable on the couch, I walked over to the far side of the living room where the bar was located.
“What would you like to drink?” I asked.
“I’ll have a whiskey sour,” Richard answered.
“And I’ll have a gin and tonic,” my wife replied.
As I made the two drinks for them, they started talking to each other as if I wasn’t even there. Carolyn explained in detail about our marriage, telling Richard that she was the Mistress of the house and free to date whomever she desired. I, on the other hand, was the slave and not permitted to have sex without her explicit permission. She told him about our dungeon in the basement and the things she’d often do to me as punishment and for her pleasure. He seemed genuinely curious about our Mistress/slave relationship and asked a number of poignant questions. All of this was naturally stuff I’d have thought she would have told him in the e-mails, or least on their date tonight when they were at Cleopatra’s Barge. Of course, knowing Carolyn, she probably wanted to humiliate me a little by going over these things in my presence. That would certainly help him to understand the scope of our relationship and where my place in this sexual triangle was to be. It would also make him feel more comfortable in taking another man’s wife, especially with the husband not too far away.
I finished with the two drinks.
As I stepped out from behind the bar and walked over to the front of the couch to hand them their drinks, I saw that Carolyn’s leather skirt had slid back quite a bit, revealing a considerable bit of upper thigh. I also noticed that Richard had his right hand resting nonchalantly on her left leg. When I handed Carolyn her drink, he began to move the tips of his fingers along the inside of her thigh, teasing her with his touch. She looked up at me with a playful smile upon her face and then uncrossed her legs to allow him greater access.
“You can set my drink down on the coffee table,” he said.
As I set the glass of whiskey on top of the table, I watched as Richard’s hand slid casually between my wife’s legs. She then turned sideways on the couch and reached over to kiss him passionately on the lips. As the kiss continued, he quickly switched hands, placing his left one fully against the crotch of her pantyhose, gently rubbing the soft mound of cotton that hid the portal to her soul. Carolyn wasted no time in grabbing hold of the huge erection in the front of his pants with her right hand, stroking it with an urgency that left no doubt in anyone’s mind exactly what she wanted.
I went back into the kitchen to complete my work. It would be a lie if I said that I didn’t have an erection of my own. What I’d seen had excited me. That was the whole idea. My wife was playing to me, her willing audience. It added to her excitement when she knew that I was either watching or listening to her lovemaking.
We are such a wicked couple! I thought.
Getting back on my knees in the kitchen, I finished scrubbing each piece of white tile and cleaning the grout between the sections of tile. That took about twenty minutes. As I stood up at the entranceway to the kitchen and stretched my back, I suddenly heard the sounds of Carolyn moaning with obvious pleasure. I could also hear Richard vaguely saying something to her and then my wife replying loudly.
I walked quietly down the short hallway, stuck my heard around the corner, and looked into the living room. I saw Carolyn and Richard lying on the floor, having sex. My wife was on the bottom with her skirt bunched up around her waist. Her blouse was unbuttoned down the front and her brassiere had been pulled down below her firm breasts so that her new lover could kiss and fondle them. It appeared as if Richard had anxiously torn out the crotch of her pantyhose in order to quickly penetrate her. She was still wearing them, and he was on top, between her legs with his pants and underwear draped around his ankles, thrusting his hard cock deeply into her body. Her stocking-covered legs were pulled up along the sides of his body like question marks to give him greater access…to allow him to fill her as fully as possible. I could hear my wife whispering the words “Do it!” over and over again to him, urging this man to fuck her harder and to ejaculate his load of semen into the confines of her womb. Carolyn’s face was turned in my direction, but her eyes were closed. I saw an expression of intensity etched across her flushed features and knew that she was enjoying what was being done. She was totally in the moment…her body responding to millions of years of evolution. I was surprised when her eyes unexpectedly opened. There was a dream-like quality in them that told me an orgasm was swiftly approaching. The expression on her face said it all. She was engulfed within a rapture of incredible pleasure as Richard took her right there in the living room, knowing that her husband was in the nearby kitchen, on his hands and knees, scrubbing the floor for her. If the female species eventually had their way, this would be the plight of all husbands. It wouldn’t matter to those of us who thrived on being cuckolded by their wives and wanted to serve them on our hands and knees as true slaves; but, for other men, it would be paramount to a prison sentence with the wife assuming the role as warden.
In time, Carolyn’s eyes focused enough to see me standing at the entrance to the living room, watching as another man fucked her. A slight smile began to form on her lips as she gripped Richard more tightly with her arms and legs. Slowly, her eyes closed again.
Several moments passed, then:
“Yessssss!” my wife screamed, shaking her head wildly from side-to-side as an immense orgasm exploded within her body. She held onto her lover for dear life, riding the waves of ecstasy, feeling the thrusts of his organ increase in speed as it drove deeper into her. Pressing her red lips up against his right ear, she said: “Do it now!”
Richard needed no encouragement. He was already at the point of his own orgasm. Arching his back, he drove his massive erection one last time into my wife, burying it up to the hilt, filling her completely, ejaculating his seed into the core of her being, bringing her to one more orgasm with the power of his manhood.
“Oh, God, nooooooo!” Carolyn moaned.
It was time for me to finish up with my work. I went back into the kitchen and emptied the bucket of dirty water into the sink, then put everything back into the cabinet below. I carried the chairs back to the kitchen and placed them around the table. After that, I didn’t know what to do. There was no way for me to get upstairs without going through the living room, and I didn’t want to disturb my wife and her boyfriend. So, I simply sat down at the table and waited.
Thirty minutes must’ve passed before I finally heard the front door being opened and then a few seconds later being closed. Getting up from the kitchen table, I walked down the hall and met Carolyn coming towards me. She’d smoothed her skirt back down, but her blouse was still unbuttoned.
“I saw you watching us,” she said, smiling shyly at me. “I should you whip for that.”
“Promises, promises,” I replied.
“Wait till you get home from work on Saturday night and I have you hanging by your wrists in the dungeon. You’ll be singing a different tune then.”
“I hope so.”
Carolyn and I had different days off. Her weekend was on Thursday and Friday, and mine was on Sunday and Monday. My weekend was usually spent cleaning house and washing clothes, while hers was spent having fun and going out on dates. She liked it that way.
“That’s was fun,” she said.
“Will you be seeing him again?”
“What do you think?”
“Yes,” I answered.
“Richard’s coming over tomorrow,” my wife stated. “Since he doesn’t have any court appearances to make, he hopes to be finished at the office by lunch time. He’s going to come over and spend the afternoon making love to me. That should give you something to fantasize about while you’re at work.”
“I probably won’t get a thing done all day.”
Carolyn moved into my arms and kissed me softly on the lips. “Let’s go upstairs,” she said. “I’m still terribly aroused. I need to feel your tongue between my legs, pleasing me as only a good slave can.”
“As you wish,” I replied.
We went upstairs to my wife’s bedroom. I thought she was going to undress, but I was wrong. She pulled her skirt up to her waist and sat down on the end of her bed with her legs spread.
“Get down on your hands and knees,” she ordered.
I obeyed the woman I loved.
“Now, crawl over here and beg for this wonderful pleasure.”
I crawled to my wife with head bowed in submission. “Please, Mistress,” I begged in a near whisper. “Allow me the pleasure of serving you in whatever way you might demand.”
“You may place your mouth to my body and service me with that delicious tongue of yours,” she said.
I moved between Carolyn’s legs, kissing the inside of her thighs as I slowly worked my way to the tear in her pantyhose. As I placed my lips to the moist wetness of her vagina, I tasted her new lover’s semen for the first time. It was salty and pungent, and there was a lot of it. My wife moaned as she gripped the back of my head with her hands and pulled me into her, demanding absolute satisfaction. I serviced her for nearly an hour, bringing her to several powerful orgasms. We finally ended up on the floor with her riding my face like a mad woman, commanding me to eat all of it. I did.
Afterwards, I ran a hot bubble bath for her. I lit some perfumed candles and put on some soft “space” music by Steve Roach. When she was resting comfortably in the water, I saved her legs and then bathed her with a sponge.
“What are you going to do about the date you had planned with Jonathan?” I asked as Carolyn stepped out of the tub.
“I’ll switch it over to Friday night,” she said. “There’s a chance Richard might end up staying over tomorrow. It’ll be better if I simply reschedule things with Jonathan.”
I took a towel and began to dry off my wife. When I was finished, we went back into the bedroom and I gave her a massage, using an expensive body lotion to keep her skin from becoming dry in the desert heat. She gradually drifted off to sleep while I was working on her legs. Not wanting to wake her up, I covered Carolyn with the bedspread and then turned off the lights in the bedroom.
Returning to my room, I went to bed with thoughts of tomorrow on my mind. I felt aroused with the knowledge that Richard would be making love to my wife all afternoon while I was at work. It somehow seemed perfect. I knew that other people would probably have a hard time understanding our marriage. Carolyn and I, however, had the perfect relationship. There was never a fear of adultery. I wanted my wife to have her affairs. It helped to make our sexual fantasies fulfilled beyond our wildest dreams. Each of us was therefore getting exactly what we needed and desired from the marriage. Few married couples could honestly say that. And perhaps most importantly, we not only loved each other, but were also very close friends. There were no secrets between us. We knew the darkest areas of each other’s mind and it was okay. We never had to worry about rejection or feel insecure about the other’s feelings. Last, but not least, I worshipped my wife and would gladly die to protect her from harm. She knew and understood that fully within the parameters of her heart. How many women could say that about their husbands?
Not many.
I took a deep breath and attempted to relax. There was to be no sexual release for me tonight. Carolyn would know if I’d masturbated, and the punishment would be harsh. I forced myself to shift my thoughts away from her and Richard and to think of other things. After fifteen minutes of counting sheep, sleep finally arrived, allowing me to enter the graceful state of dreamtime. Thursday morning was terrible.
Each minute seemed like an hour with the seconds ticking away at a snail's pace. The only thing I could think of was Richard spending the afternoon with my wife, Carolyn, at our home, making love to her while I was at work. I found myself to be both jealous and sexually aroused at the same time, remembering the scene from last night when they were lying on the living room floor, having sex, knowing that I was nearby and yet, not caring.
When one o'clock finally arrived and I went on my lunch break, I quickly headed to a payphone and called my wife at home. I listened as the telephone rang several times before being picked up by Carolyn.
"Hello?" she said.
"It's me," I said. "How's everything going?"
"It's going great, darling," Carolyn replied. "Richard got here about an hour ago. We had sex first. Now, I'm making him some lunch."
"I didn't think he was coming over till after one o'clock."
"He couldn't wait. You know how men are when they're horny."
"Yes, I do."
"Would you like to say hi to him?" she asked. "He's standing here behind me. In fact, Richard's got his arms wrapped around me with one hand on my left breast. He's pinching my nipple and kissing me on the side of the neck." There was a moment of silence, followed by a giggle of obvious delight. "I can feel his erection pressing up against me. I think he wants to take me right here in the kitchen. Maybe we'll skip lunch."
"I've got to go," I said. "I'll see you this evening."
"No," Carolyn said. "I want you to take an early out from work. You haven't done that in a long time, so it shouldn't be a problem."
"An early out?"
"Yes."
"How early?"
"I want you home by three o'clock," she stated.
"I thought Richard was going to spend the entire afternoon with you."
"He is," my wife laughed. "When you get home, I want you to take a quick bath and shave your legs."
"Huh?"
"You heard me. After you finish with that, you're to put on that sexy French maid's outfit I bought for you several months ago."
"The maid's outfit?" The hand holding the receiver was starting to shake just a little. "You want me to put it on with Richard there?
"Yes, Daniel. I'm going to have you cook dinner for us; and, who knows, maybe some other things as well."
"What other things?"
"You'll find out when you get home."
"I don't know if I'll be able to leave early," I lied.
"You'd better be here by three o'clock or else," Carolyn warned. "Every minute that you're late is going to earn you a cut of the riding crop. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"When you put on the maid's outfit, I expect you to be wearing the white ruffled panties and black nylons."
"Yes, Mistress," I replied, feeling my heart sink. I didn't like the idea of being made to dress up as a woman, especially in front of my wife's new boyfriend. It would take away what little manhood I still possessed. "Anything else?"
"Make sure you put on some makeup. I want to see your lips covered with blood-red lipstick. Richard will enjoy that."
"Yes, Mistress."
"And don't forget to put on that black Bettie Page wig. We can't have you looking too butch."
"Is that all?"
"Tonight, you're going to find out exactly what it means to be a slave," she said matter-of-factly. "You will obey me, no matter how humiliating the command. I'm going to test your submission and your love for me."
"I have to go."
"Don't be late, Daniel."
I heard the sound of Richard saying something to her, followed by a loud laugh before the telephone was hung up.
I replaced the receiver in its cradle and stood there for a few seconds trying to get my thoughts in order. Glancing at my watch, I saw that it was 1:15. I'd have to leave work by two-thirty in order to make it home by three. The first thing I needed to do was to ask my supervisor for an early out. After that, the best thing to do would be to simply keep my mind off of Carolyn and Richard for as long as I could.
My immediate supervisor said no problem to the early out.
Because I wanted the time to drag along, the next hour proved to be the fastest of my life. When two-thirty came, I shook my head at the speed of its arrival, took a deep breath to calm my nerves, and drove home with strong feelings of trepidation.
When I got to the house and went inside, I saw a note on the kitchen table from Carolyn. It was short and to the point, explaining that the clothes she wanted me to wear were lying on my bed, and that she expected me to be dressed and ready by four o'clock. I was to come to her bedroom at that time and knock on the door for permission to enter.
I laid the note back down on the table, took a deep breath in a futile effort to relax, and headed upstairs to my bedroom. As I stepped into the hallway of the second landing, I stopped for a moment and glanced to my left. I saw that the door to Carolyn's bedroom was closed. I stood there and quietly listened for any sounds of activity that might be coming from her room, but there was nothing but silence. My wife and her new lover were probably asleep, worn out from a full afternoon of sex.
Shaking my head at the situation I was in, I walked down to my room and immediately saw the feminine clothes laid out on the bed. There was the black silk maid's outfit with its short, ruffled skirt and sleeves, a white petticoat, and a white apron to match. Beside the outfit was a pair of white silk ruffled panties, a pair of black nylons, a black corset with hanging garters tabs, and a maid's hat. On the floor, next to the bed, was a pair of black stiletto-heeled shoes. I entered the bedroom and saw the black Bettie Page wig resting comfortably on top of a mannequin's head on the dresser bureau. Next to the wig was an assortment of make-up for me to put on, not to mention perfume.
There was no way out of this.
To disobey my Mistress would result in severe punishment.
I quickly undressed and then went into the bathroom across the hall. I turned on the water in the tub. While the tub was filling up, I went over to the sink and shaved my face. By the time I finished shaving the tub was full. I climbed into the tub of hot water and slowly sat down. Applying some shaving cream to my right leg, I took the razor and began to carefully shave my leg. I knew what Carolyn expected of me. She'd had me do this once before when a party was thrown for several dominant women that she knew. My wife had made me dress up as a French maid and wait on them. I shaved my entire leg, from the tips of the toes to the very top of the thigh, and even the area around my buttocks. When I finished with the right leg, I started on the left one. After that was completed, I shaved my armpits. Opening the tub's drain so the water could run out, I then stood up and took a quick shower to wash the tiny hairs off of me. Climbing out of the bathtub, I dried myself off with a thick towel and then put on some body lotion so that my skin wouldn't be too dry.
Once I was back in my bedroom, I looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand and saw that it was 3:30.
My allotted time was running out.
I moved over to the side of the bed, picked up the black corset, and put it on backwards so that I could fasten the half-dozen eyehooks running up and down the back of it. I then turned the tight-fitting piece of lingerie (I could hardly breathe with it on) around so that it was facing in the correct direction on my body. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I put on each of the black nylons, fastened them to the garter tabs, and then put on the stiletto-heeled shoes. Standing back up, I took the pair of white panties and stepped into them, sliding the silky fabric up my legs and over my hips. I hate to say it, but I actually found myself becoming a little aroused by what I was doing.
Deciding that it might be best if I put on the make-up first before I finished dressing, I went over to the dresser bureau to see what Carolyn had left me. There was a small jar of skin-tone base, a small plastic container of rouge, some eye shadow, a tube of blood-red lipstick, and a bottle of perfume. I glanced at the clock again and saw that it was now 3:43.
Damn!
I stared into the mirror on the bureau as I took the base and began to rub a light amount of it onto my face, covering every inch until I had somewhat of a natural appearance. I put some eye shadow on my upper lids, then a little bit rouge on my cheeks. As I put the lipstick on, I couldn't help but wonder if Carolyn was planning to have me perform oral sex on Richard. She'd threatened me more than once with this particular form of humiliation. So far, I'd managed to escape having to sexually submit to any of her lovers, but that didn't mean it wasn't going to eventually happen. After I finished putting the lipstick on, I took the bottle of perfume and sprayed some on the sides of my neck and then on the back of my knees. I'd seen my wife do this on countless occasions.
Walking back over to the bed, I picked up the maid's outfit and stepped into it, wiggling it up over my hips and sliding my arms through the short sleeves. Zipping up the back of the outfit, however, proved to be nearly impossible. I wasted several minutes getting it done.
The time was now 3:55.
I put on the wig and the maid's hat, then backed away from the mirror to get a better look at myself. I won't say that I was passable as a female, but I sure as hell looked a lot better than some of the guys I'd seen in drag at costume parties and fetish conventions.
"Show time!" I said at loud, offering the image in the mirror a nervous smile.
Leaving my bedroom, I went down to the end of the hallway and knocked hesitantly on Carolyn's door.
"You may enter," she called out from inside the bedroom.
I opened the door and walked into my wife's bedroom, trying not to wobble too much in the high heels and keeping my hands behind me so that they wouldn't see them shaking. This was definitely one of the hardest things I'd ever had to do since marrying Carolyn. I felt embarrassed and humiliated to the very core of my being, not to mention the gradual slipping away of what little manhood I possessed. It was difficult to appear masculine when standing in front of your wife's lover, dressed in a skimpy French maid's outfit with nylons and white ruffled panties. No man was ever going to take you seriously. They would see you simply as a joke to the male species, to be used in whatever format the Mistress of the house demanded. They would see your wife as there for the taking, understanding her need to have a real man making love to her.
I stopped in front of the king-size bed with bowed head, not wanting to make eye contact with my wife's lover.
"Your husband actually looks rather attractive in his maid's outfit," Richard commended. He suddenly laughed. "Hell, I wouldn't mind bending him over and using him for my pleasure."
"Really?" Carolyn asked.
"Absolutely," her lover replied. "His legs are almost as beautiful as yours."
"I don't think so."
"Sure they are. Have him turn around."
"Please turn around, Danielle," my wife ordered. "Richard wants to get a better look at you."
Danielle?
Why the hell was my wife calling me Danielle?
Keeping my head bowed, I obeyed my Mistress and turned slowly around so that her lover could get his eyes full. I knew my face was turning a bright shade of red at the things Stuart was saying about me.
"Have him bend over and pull the back of his skirt up so that I can see how nice his ass looks," Richard said.
"Do as my lover demands, Danielle," Carolyn stated. "Let's see how pretty your bottom is."
I bent over and lifted up the back of my outfit so that they could get a better view of my bottom and the ruffled panties. I gritted my teeth in embarrassment and growing anger, not understanding why my wife was doing this to me. It was as if her personality had suddenly changed to a larger degree the moment she got involved with this guy, displaying the cruel side of her nature.
"Yes," Richard said in excitement. "Stay in that position, slave."
I heard him get off of the bed and walked around to where I was standing. He moved behind me and placed his hand on my buttocks, running it lightly over the back of my panties. His then hand slid down between my legs, caressing me with its soft touch. I found myself becoming aroused again. He pulled his hand away and then gripped my hips as he pressed his genitals against my backside, rubbing his limp penis against the panties, pressing it into the narrow split between my buttocks. I could feel him gradually getting hard with excitement, and I became worried that this was leading to something I didn't want.
"Stand up," he ordered.
I did.
Richard pressed his growing erection against my buttocks as he moved his right hand to the front of my panties. He felt my own erection, laughed at his discovery, and then squeezed it hard, causing me to groan in pain.
"This turns you on, doesn't it, Danielle?" he whispered into my left ear. "Though you'd probably deny it, there's a part of you that wants to be dominated by another man…to be forced to sexually submit to a superior male."
"No," I said.
"There's no use in lying to me. The reaction of your body to my stimulation tells me the truth. I bet you want to put those pretty red lips of yours around my hard cock, don't you?"
"You're crazy," I stated.
"Am I?" he asked, rubbing my erection till I was almost to the point of ejaculation. "I don't think so. In fact, I think you'd like to have me bend you over right now and take you in front of your wife."
"No, you're wrong."
"You want it, Danielle. Tell me the truth. It's okay. There's nothing wrong with wanting to have sex with another man."
"I'm not like that."
"Your wife told me how you licked my cum up from between her legs last night after I left. She said you enjoyed the taste of it."
I didn't say anything.
Richard grabbed my testicles through the sheer fabric of the panties and squeezed them till I begged for mercy.
"You liked licking up my semen, didn't you?"
"Yessss," I admitted.
"Well, there's a lot more for you to clean up," he said, chuckling at what was in store for me. "I must've ejaculated at least three times inside your wife this afternoon, and it's all still there, waiting for you to do the only thing you'll really good at."
"I need to feel my husband's tongue inside of me right now, " Carolyn stated.
Richard turned me around so that I could see my wife. She'd pulled the bed coverings off of her and was lying there with her legs spread, waiting for me to do my husbandly duties. He pushed me onto the bed and then forced my face down between my wife's legs, commanding me to lick her clean.
"Eat it!" Carolyn ordered as she placed her hand behind my head and pressed my face into the wet folds of her tender flesh. "You're not to move from that position until you've licked up every drop of my lover's semen."
I looked up into her eyes and saw that she was dead serious. As I slid my tongue between the lips of her vagina, getting a good tasted of Richard's cum, I felt him tugging at my panties in an attempt to get them off. I stared up at Carolyn and shook my head, pleading with my eyes for her to stop what was getting ready to happen.
"Tonight, you're going to learn what it means to be an true slave," my wife stated, giving me a wicked smile that caused goose bumps to pop up on my arms. "The only purpose for a slave's existence is to obey his Mistress or Master, no matter how painful or humiliating the commands might be. You're going to prove your worthiness by submitting to me and my lover, doing whatever we want, putting our pleasure and sexual gratification first. Do you understand?"
I slowly nodded my head.
"We'll see."
Richard pulled the panties down my legs and then from around my ankles. Tossing them to the floor, he then pushed my legs apart. I felt him maneuver his body between my legs as I lapped up another mouthful of semen that almost choked me when I swallowed it. I listened as both of them laughed at my discomfort and predicament.
"Hand me the K-Y jell," he said to my wife.
I watched as she reached back with her other hand to the shelve that was built into the headboard, picked up the small tube of lubricant, and tossed it to her boyfriend. Carolyn grinned at me like a Cheshire cat and then pushed my face further down into her soaking-wet vagina.
"You need to stop staring at me and concentrate on cleaning up the mess between my legs. This is something all women should make their husbands do. That would put the men in their place and teach them who the real boss in the household is."
She certainly had a point.
I felt her lover smearing the K-Y jell in and around my rectum. It wasn't long before he placed the head of his cock to the opening of my anus and began to slowly push it into me, an inch at a time. I shook my head and moaned loudly in pain, trying to tighten my sphincter muscle in a futile attempt to stop the invasion of my body. He simply pushed harder. The pain was unbelievable. It felt as though my body was being ripped apart by the monstrous intrusion. To keep me from pulling away, Carolyn gripped the sides of my face with her thighs, while at the same time placing both of her hands behind my head, demanding that I continue to satisfy her while I was being sodomized.
As my wife arched her pelvis and began to experience her first orgasm, brought on as much by my humiliation and torture as by my tongue, Richard drove his erection the final couple of inches into me. I almost blacked out from the pain and found myself unable to scream as Carolyn ground my face into the wet junction of her body. She was groaning from the intensity of her orgasm, and I was moaning from the terrible agony of being raped. Luckily, it only took a few minutes for Richard to reach his orgasm and to ejaculate his seed deep into the bowels of my rectum. He grunted loudly as he emptied himself into me, driving his cock right up to the hilt, pressing his muscled stomach hard against my buttocks. I could actually feel the force of his cum as he ejaculated, and I felt totally violated.
After it was over, all of us laid there for a very long minute, catching our breath, and dealing mentally with what had just taken place.
"I want you to clean yourself and then fix your make-up," Carolyn said as she pushed my face away from her body. "When you've finished, go downstairs and cook us a nice dinner. There are a couple of steaks lying on top of the stove, thawing out. You can add baked potatoes and a salad with them."
"Yes, Mistress," I said softly.
Richard withdrew his deflating penis from my rectum, slapped me hard on the bottom, and then got off of the bed to go into the master bathroom. As I wearily climbed off the bed and picked up the panties that were lying on the floor, my wife reminded me to put on the leather slave collar and to have dinner ready within the hour or so.
I nodded my understanding and walked out of the bedroom with head bowed in complete humiliation. I was still in a state of shock, not to mention totally confused by what had just taken place. My wife had never before abused me to such a degree before. It simply wasn't like her. I didn't know what had changed during the last seventeen hours to cause this dark side of her personality to come out in such a dramatic format, except for the fact that Richard was now in her life. Whatever it was, the change in Carolyn scared me. There had been no love in tonight's ménage a trois…only hardcore sex, mixed with verbal and physical abuse and sexual humiliation. I silently prayed that this wasn't a sign of how our marriage was now going to be. I loved and worshipped my wife. Waiting on her hand and foot as a submissive gave my own life true meaning. She was all I lived for. I didn't mind her having lovers.
That was exciting to me.
I didn't, however, want to be sexually abused by them. That wasn't a turn-on. It was humiliating and painful, and I'd never be able to look in the mirror again and see the person I used to be.
The truth was that I no longer felt like a man.
Walking into the bathroom across the hall from my bedroom, I sat down on the toilet and felt blood and semen running out of me. After several minutes, I cleaned myself and then went back into the bedroom to redo my make-up. When that was finally done and I'd put my slave collar on, I walked downstairs to the kitchen and started to prepare dinner for Carolyn and Richard.
Everything was just about ready when they came downstairs an hour later. Richard was wearing his street clothes, and my wife had on a silk robe.
I'd cooked the two steaks, baked them a couple of potatoes, and made up a Chef's salad. As they sat down at the dining-room table, I placed the food in front of them and then poured each one a glass of red wine. My wife then made me get down on the floor on my hands and knees with head bowed. I had to stay in that position until they finished eating.
After dinner was completed and Richard was preparing to leave, she had me kneel in front of him and kiss his shoes in total subjugation, thanking him for the attention that was shown to me. He stared down at me and laughed, saying that I was going to receive more attention the next time he came over. While the two lovebirds kissed and said goodbye to each other, I went back into the kitchen and began to clean up.
"Things have changed rather dramatically, haven't they?" Carolyn said as she entered the kitchen a few minutes later.
I was washing dishes at the sink. Turning around, I stared at her with the hurt in my eyes. "Why did you allow Richard to use me like that?" I asked. "Do you have any idea the affect it had on me?"
"You'd better get use to it," she stated. "Richard not only wants to be my lover, he wants to help me dominate you. He thinks it would be good for you to serve another male."
"Don't I have a say-so in any of this?"
"No, you don't," my wife answered. "You're a slave, and slaves don't get to pick and choose how they're treated. From now on, you're going to sexually submit to Richard in any way he desires, and you will address him as Master. There's no room for argument on this. Do you understand?"
"But—"
"Do you understand?" she repeated.
"Yes, Mistress."
"We'll see. You do look rather attractive in your French maid's outfit. No wonder Richard wanted to take you in front of me."
I didn't say anything.
"After you finish cleaning up," she continued, "I want you to run me a nice, hot bubble bath."
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
"Cheer up," my wife stated. "In time, you'll learn to enjoy your new role as a slave to my lover."
"I don't think so."
"Well, it doesn't really matter if you do or don't. The main thing is that you will obey me."
"Yes, Mistress."
I watched my wife leave the kitchen and wondered how I was going to deal with this new situation. I could always leave her, if worse came to worse, but that would be more difficult than submitting to Richard. I loved Carolyn too much to divorce her. If being her boyfriend's sexual slave was what I had to do in order to stay with her, then I'd simply have to find a way of handling it.
Finishing up in the kitchen and dining room, I went upstairs to run my wife a bath and to see if there was any room at all for negotiation. Though I already knew the answer, it wouldn't hurt to ask.
