Led By Her - Special Femdom Marriage Boxed Set (Books 1-6): A Dominant Female Submissive Male Femdom & Cuckolding Tale

Home > Other > Led By Her - Special Femdom Marriage Boxed Set (Books 1-6): A Dominant Female Submissive Male Femdom & Cuckolding Tale > Page 8
Led By Her - Special Femdom Marriage Boxed Set (Books 1-6): A Dominant Female Submissive Male Femdom & Cuckolding Tale Page 8

by Tinto Selvaggio


  “Ah, now that reminds me. “ She suddenly jumps from the stool. “Don’t move from there.” She points to where I’m standing then turns and I watch the motion of her lusciously rounded bottom under her dressing gown as she sashays out of the room into the hall.

  After what feels an eternity, I hear her voice from the hallway.

  “I meant to take off the price tag.” Her right forearm is across her chest continuing to grip the front of her dressing gown in place. Her left arm is above her head swishing around like a classical music conductor and making sharp cutting noises as she slices it through the air.

  “It’s not quite a matching shade of pink.” Becky slowly extends the riding crop towards my groin. The leather ‘slapper’ at the tip is black but the nylon stem of the whip is indeed pink.

  “This is more fuschia really.” She says to herself.

  My mouth falls open. Surely she’s not actually planning to use that on me? Does Lynne know anything about this?

  She doesn’t touch me with the whip. She merely holds the colored stem of it close to my chastity belt.

  “Well I’m sure my new toy will be sufficient to ensure I get exactly what I want today won’t it? No matter what shade of pink it might be”. She stares directly into my eyes and I feel myself start to wilt. Then she turns and gently puts her instrument down behind her on the granite breakfast bar.

  “I want the floor in here cleaning and after that I’ll see if I feel I can trust you being put to work upstairs for the first time.”

  My heart accelerates at her words. Both the phrase ‘Put to work’ coming from those lips, and the suggestion that I may be allowed upstairs. I try not to appear too excited. I look down so she can’t see my face as I pull up my shorts and start to zip up my jeans.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she curls her top lip at me. “I don’t remember telling you to pull your pants up.” She climbs back onto the stool, straightens her back so that her chest thrusts out and crosses her arms. Then there’s a double thud as she lets her slippers fall to the tiles below her and she wiggles her bare toes.

  “After your behaviour last time you were here…” She pauses and I feel shame course me as my eyes are hopelessly pulled to those lovely high arched little feet which now sit exposed to me.

  “I obviously have my concerns. For instance, I wouldn’t want you to try and sneak something of mine into one of your pockets and take it home with you… for whatever purpose you might have in mind.” She wrinkles her turned-up nose at me and her top lip curls again.

  “So I’d like you to take your clothes off. All of them. You needn’t worry, your ‘modesty’ will be covered by your little pink decoration won’t it?” She raises her chin, exposing her long elegant neck to me.

  “Come along Stuart, we don’t have all day – and you have a lot to do for me before I go out.”

  Chapter Four

  I want to tell Becky this is where it ends. That’s exactly what I should tell her. This is ludicrous. It’s Insanity. But my sexual frustration and the indescribable excitement pumping through me is making my whole body quake uncontrollably. I’m enslaved by these feelings. So I don’t even attempt to argue with Becky’s demand.

  She doesn’t even afford me the decency of turning her back, never mind leaving the room as I strip. For a moment as my hands go to the couple of buttons at the top of my shirt, Becky sits perched on the stool smiling slyly at me. She uncrosses her long legs then crosses them the other way, ramping up the intensity of this torturous sexual frustration.

  I pull my shirt over my head, stupidly worrying about it messing up my hair in front of her. But when I emerge from the shirt and shake my head Becky’s not even looking at me. She’s holding her phone, texting. I’m suddenly conscious that my bare chest and arms must look puny to her compared with those of her husband.

  I place my shirt over the back of another stool then my trembling hands are on the belt of my jeans again. I look over to see if I’m being observed but Becky is still preoccupied by her phone. My eyes crawl across the exquisitely delicate shape of her ankles and her little feet which are perched on a chrome bar near the base of her stool.

  “You can leave your socks on. I’m not keen on the idea of your bare feet on my flooring.” She looks up from her phone.

  Although I lowered my pants briefly only a few minutes ago, the idea of taking them off completely in front of her feels a huge step to take. I hold the waist band of my underpants between my fingers. I wonder whether I can at least maintain a little decency and self-respect.

  “I said all of your clothes didn’t I Stuart?” Becky is looking directly at me now. “I’m sure there’s plenty of space in those pants to sneak something out of my house. “ She giggles at her own joke before returning her eyes to her phone.

  “And get rid of that elastic band on your chastity belt. I don’t want you creeping through my home. At least I’ll be able to keep track on where you are if I can hear you ‘clacking’ around.”

  I roll the band off the little copper padlock and stand there in front of this beautiful woman in just my socks and this pink device. I’ve never felt so ridiculous. Even my shoulders are shaking.

  Briefly I look at her on the stool and her eyes are beaming at me.

  “Good boy. So that’s something else you’ve done just because I said so isn’t it?” She slowly swirls a foot at me.

  “Tell me, has it been very difficult for you not being able to make love with your wife?” Her eyes burn into mine.

  “Well, yes, no, it hasn’t been easy Becky.”

  “Yes? No? Which is it?” She feigns confusion at my flustered response.

  “Yes it has been difficult Becky, very”

  “She’s a very sexy girl your wife Stuart. Did Lynne tell you we bathed together?” Her eyes sparkle with amusement as she continues observing me.

  “Yes, yes she did.”

  “I bet that was ‘hard’ to hear about with your little willy locked away wasn’t it?”

  I bite my lip as she continues.

  “So you have a very sexy wife and yet you still keep pictures of me on your phone.” She leans forward and the top of her cleavage becomes visible again.

  My only response is a determination to keep my eyes from her whilst I turn a deeper shade of scarlet.

  “Do you like to look at me Stuart?” Her voice is throaty, thick. She has to be able to see that I’m shaking.

  “Oh yes of course you do. You download pictures of me from the internet to look at don’t you?”

  I’m unable to answer.

  “So why aren’t you looking at me now?” Her voice is soft and I raise my eyes up without lifting my head.

  She moves her hands from her lap, letting the sides of her dressing gown fall apart. The lower part of her tanned, toned legs, from just above her knees down are displayed to me. Then she wriggles her ass on the seat and inches her gown up still further. Her hands fall back onto her lap keeping herself decent while she exposes the whole length of her incredible legs to me. From the very tops of her thighs, right the way down past her sculpted calves to the arched soles of her delicate little feet.

  I try and fail to suppress a groan and she holds the long slender fingers of one hand up to her mouth. Her eyes and nose crinkle behind her hand. I feel my cock push against the walls of my chastity belt with all its might, my breathing labors.

  “You’ll find some wet wipes in the laundry room.” She sighs, “Go and wipe your bits down so that you’re completely clean before you begin working seriously around my home.” She extends an arm and ‘shoos’ me out of the room, her long elegant fingers making a rapid upwards flicking motion as if repeatedly swatting a fly.

  When I return to the kitchen Becky swings her legs down off the stool and holding her dressing gown carefully together at the throat, tells me to fetch the vacuum cleaner and follow her.

  I don’t even have to ask her where she keeps the vacuum any more but I maintain my gaze d
own on the floor as she strides past me. Once she’s ahead of me, leading me up the thick carpet of her stairs I allow my eyes to feast on the contours of her behind. The fabric of her dressing gown is gathered slightly in loose folds at the base of her spine. Lower down where her hips open out, the material stretches tightly across her rounded buttocks. Her whole ass rocks tantalisingly from side to side ahead of me as she climbs the stairs.

  On the wall half way up the stairs there’s a portrait of her and Dominic and another of her alone looking stunning in an ‘over the shoulder’ pose in red dress. Both look like they were taken by a professional photographer.

  Off the large landing Becky opens the 2nd door on our left and my heart leaps as I see a huge double bed with copper-colored headboard in the shape of a Gothic arch. The bed itself is unmade, the covers pulled back in a heap at the bottom of the bed.

  Is she taking me into her bedroom? Like this?

  “The bed linen needs changing. You’ll find a fresh set of white ones in that chest over there. A finger shoots out directing my attention to a large wooden box across the room under the window. I put the vacuum down on a carpet which is even deeper than the one in the hallway.

  “Vacuum right through here before you change the bedding, obviously.”

  I nod my head. My heart races at the thought that I’m actually in Becky’s bedroom.

  “I’m going for a shower.” She opens a door to another room in the far left hand corner of the bedroom. She closes it behind her and then I hear a bolt being slid across from the inside. I stand taking in my surroundings as shower jets start drumming inside the en suite.

  Becky stripping naked….so close to me.

  I feel my cock hopelessly try to surge inside its cage. I grab the chastity belt and pull at it frantically trying to fashion some degree of satisfaction. Then I become conscious of the sound of the shower again and realize I’d better get a move on cleaning.

  After sweeping across her room a number of times as quickly but thoroughly as I can with the vacuum, I turn my attention to her bed.

  Turning to face it, my eyes dart around for clues as to which might be Becky’s side. There’s nothing obvious. Both bedside tables match each other exactly.

  I pull the duvet and covers completely off the mattress and onto the floor to get a better view. I check over my shoulder towards the door of the en suite but I can still hear the shower.

  I feel my heart hammering in my chest.

  Then I see it.

  Almost completely hidden under one of the pillows nearest the window. A long black hair. Without thinking, I’m sliding down to my knees. I have one hand on my chastity belt to stop it making any noise. I take the strand of hair in between trembling fingers then lower my head and let a cheek rest on the pillow inhaling deeply as I do. I recognize her fragrance.

  I’m working out exactly which area of the mattress itself to inhale next when I hear the male voice.

  “What precisely is going on here?”

  Chapter Five

  I turn sharply on my knees and to my horror see Dominic, Becky’s husband just inside the doorway with his hand over the back of his neck. For a second I tense up waiting for him to launch himself across the room at me. Raining his fists or feet down on the naked man in his bedroom.

  Maybe the scene in front of him is too surreal for him to take in. He doesn’t look shocked. He just looks a little confused and quite amused.

  The en suite door lock slides and Becky emerges with a white towel fastened around her, just above her bust and another smaller one like a turban around her head.

  “You’re early,” she tells her husband.

  “And you weren’t making it up.” He shakes his head at her. “I only popped back for something I promised one of the guys at the club.” He holds up a tub of shiny gold-colored golf tees to his wife. This close, he’s even taller and more powerfully built than I thought.

  “So this is your sexy young friend’s husband?” Dominic stares down at me on my knees by his bed. Then he and his wife exchange knowing looks.

  “No wonder Lynne always seems like she needs a good fucking.” He shakes his head at me.

  I’m caught in two minds about rising to my feet or staying put on the floor. I look from Dominic to his wife who’s now towel-drying her dark hair. I’ve never before wanted to just evaporate into thin air like I do at this moment

  “Personally, I think his wife would look far better than him in our bedroom without her clothes on. In fact after what I saw of her last night, I’m sure of it. “ He winks at Becky then walks over to her.

  “What’s he doing on the floor though?” Dominic jabs his thumb over his shoulder at me then lays his arms around Becky’s bare shoulders. She turns her back to me, her ass cheeks two proud, ripe mounds under the towel.

  “He’s supposed to be making the bed” Becky sighs.

  “Well there’s one good thing about him being so happy doing that kind of shit. He’ll save us a fortune on a paid cleaner.” Dominic kisses his wife on the cheek and tells her he’ll be back again soon to take her out.

  “In there.” Becky stabs an index finger towards the en suite after Dominic has left.

  My knees ache as I pull myself to my feet and hurry through to the adjacent room.

  The shower room with its cream-colored travertine tiles on the walls and floor is still warm and humid from Becky showering. The tiles are hard and a little slippery underfoot in my socks.

  “Rinse out the shower and then you’ll find a couple of cloths under the sinks. You can use one with warm water to mop the entire floor then rub it dry with the other one.” She closes the door in my face and then I hear the hairdryer starting in the bedroom.

  The whole time I’m cleaning this room, my mind swims with Dominic’s reaction when he found me earlier. I’m so preoccupied trying to fathom out his response that I can’t concentrate on what I’m doing. As I kneel to scrub the base of the shower clean, my chastity belt swinging and clacking between my legs, even picking some of Becky’s long black hairs from around the plug hole and putting them into the bin doesn’t excite me like it otherwise might.

  I never imagined for a minute that Dominic would know Becky was using me like this. Perhaps the three of them discussed it last night when my wife was here? Maybe he’s told other people? Shame sears through me, chased immediately by a sexual arousal that makes my belly gnaw on itself.

  I’m on my hands and knees wiping the floor tiles dry when only inches from my outstretched arms the door opens. The smell of Becky’s newly-painted cherry red toenails and sight of her little feet confront me. I raise my head up her bare, statuesque legs until they reach the hem of a denim mini skirt. If she was a few inches closer to me I’d be able to see right up in between her legs. If I dared to try of course.

  “Are you happy now?” She adjusts her bra strap on her shoulder under her sleeveless low cut white blouse. Her raven-colored hair is down now, lying full and wild around her shoulders. Her eye make up is dark and thick.

  As I kneel here in the shadow of her breasts I feel my face cloud over with confusion.

  “Happy I’ve had my cleaning allowance stopped?” Her other hand comes from behind her back. It holds the riding crop.

  By the time I understand what’s happening, the top of one of my hips scorches with pain. I cry out. Becky lets out a short nervous giggle. I grimace and move a hand to the pouting red mark.

  “I’ve always wanted to whip someone.” Her pupils are enlarged and a little smile plays across her lips. She takes the fuschia-colored stem of the riding crop into the slender fingers of her right hand while holding the handle in her left.

  “You might want to tell Lynne that Dominic found you misbehaving and lost his temper with you. If she asks about the marks.” Her voice is flat and before I can worry about her saying “marks” and not “mark”, her arm swipes down again. This time the blow catches me across the forearm as I attempt to defend myself.

  Her face
reddens as her strike fails to connect properly.

  “Are you going to let me punish you or am I going to need to report your behaviour to your wife? Tell her what an absolute pervert she’s married to?”

  What am I being punished for?

  I look up from my back and above her magnificent, heaving chest her perfectly symmetrical face is still flushed. In that moment I realize how much I want her to punish me. More than anything I want this beautiful woman to hurt me.

  “I’m sorry Becky” I’m mumbling up to her. “How do you want me?” My voice is thin and apologetic as I try to help her beat me more easily and effectively.

  “Get up onto your knees properly.” She raises her voice and it echoes around the room like a song. I move quickly as ordered. “Put your head down on the floor. Stick your bottom out for me.”

  My forehead, nose and lips press into the hard tiles. I feel my balls tighten so much that they feel they’re disappearing up into my belly. My breathing is fast, shallow.

  “That’s better.” Her voice has slowed and thickened.

  I wait.

  The crop savagely rips the air. Excruciating pain across my buttocks. Like a burn. My voice drowns out the echoing noise of the crop as I gasp for air. This time she’s connected fully.

  “I said get your head down!” The last word is shouted at me. The back of my neck is pushed into the floor. I have to squirm my face so that a cheek, not my nose, is pressed against the tiles. She has a bare foot on the back of my head, pressing me in place.

  The whip slices the air again. Pain like I’ve never known. Scalding me. I’m crying out. It’s not my life that flashes before me, just my teenage years. All that fantasising of being beaten by some glamorous uncaring woman. Then more recently, all those times I’ve tried to coax my wife to physically punish me. Never once imagining the pleasure of submission being cancelled out by the physical pain. This though, fucking hurts.

 

‹ Prev