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

by Tinto Selvaggio

  My head struggles trying to turn under her foot as two more heavy blows rip across my startled flesh.

  I need her to stop. I can’t handle the pain.

  “Becky! Becky! Please!”

  She removes her foot from my head and stands back with her hands on her hips. I lift my head and look fully upwards. Her huge tits rise and fall rapidly, her nipples now clearly visible under her top. Her blue-gray eyes blaze down at me then move slowly across my bare hips and ass as if admiring her handiwork

  I try to move onto my side, carefully picking where I put any weight. But I don’t want her to see my eyes have filled up.

  “Are you OK?” Her eyes find mine and look right into them. For a moment I imagine I see compassion.

  The change from looking into the back of my own screwed –up eyelids to now seeing her standing so proudly and elegantly fuels my desire to suffer again at her hand.

  “Yes, I’m OK”. I become aware for the first time of a mark on one of my thighs as well as those on my ass and a hip.

  She tells me to get my face back into the floor and my backside out for her. I’m scared, but I obey.

  Then I watch her feet and legs as she walks around towards my head. Her feet turn so that her toes point towards my shoulders. One of the feet moves in so that her ankle and shin brushes up against my ear. Then her other leg does the same, pressing into my head and locking it down in place between the bottom of her legs.

  Perversely, I contemplate attempting to turn my head and kissing her feet or the insides of her ankles. But I’m held tight. She’s stronger than her delicate frame would suggest.

  “I’ve been thinking.” She says slowly from high up above me.

  I feel the leather end of the crop lightly tap my anus making me jump as delicate nerve endings are enlivened. For some reason I find myself worrying how grotesque I must look to Becky from this angle.

  “It would be a nice gesture Stuart, if you were to make good the loss of my cleaning allowance from Dominic.” The crop leaves my ass hole completely and I wince.

  “What do you mean Becky?”

  A swiping screech through the air. A cry from my lips that shames me as the whip flays my anus. I’m gulping for air like a drowning swimmer. My thighs and legs spasm underneath me. Still she locks my head in place.

  Then I feel the rough, hard stem of the riding crop gently push its way along the crease of my ass towards the back of my unprotected balls. For a moment I forget myself and start to struggle.

  “You’re not helping me Stuart.”

  I fall motionless.

  “Assuming we’re going to carry on this little arrangement, I believe you should be making up any shortfall in my income from now on. Don’t you?”

  My balls!

  I gasp for breath. The rear of my testicles is slapped hard, repeatedly and rapidly by the end of the whip. Then she releases the pressure from my head and walks away from me.

  I collapse forward onto the tiles, light-headed and weepy with the blistering pain between my legs. One of my fists is clenched on the floor, the other gently massaging my throbbing balls. I’m half expecting to feel a split somewhere on my scrotum

  I look up at Becky. And she’s biting her bottom lip, her face flushed. The hand holding her whip hangs limply down by her side.

  Later that night at home in the bathroom, I gingerly smear my ass, hips, thighs and balls with soothing Aloe Vera gel.

  I don’t lie when I explain why I need to keep my underpants on in bed and so hide the marks of the beating I received from Becky. I tell Lynne that the support of my shorts prevents the belt and padlock from rolling, shifting their weight and waking me in my sleep. Lynne doesn’t offer to unlock my chastity belt and I don’t ask.

  I guess I can wait until my bruises heal first.

  Led By Her 4

  A Dominant Female, Submissive Male Femdom Marriage Tale

  By Tinto Selvaggio

  Chapter One

  7:40pm and at last I’m nearly home. I screw up my eyes and move my head closer to the windscreen. The wipers beat relentlessly but I can hardly see the tail-lights in front through this lashing rain.

  What a day it’s been. With everything that’s going on at home at the moment; the last thing I need is a new boss trying to make his mark by keeping me late at the office.

  Finally, I round the corner onto our street and pull up outside the house. I grab my briefcase and make a run for the front door.

  “I’m home Babe!” I shake my jacket in the porch then step into the warmth of the hallway. A familiar fragrance excites my nostrils. Becky’s scent?

  My heart hammers in my chest as I feel a sudden, automatic nervousness about being in that woman’s company.

  Wait, I don’t remember seeing her car when I pulled up. I poke my head back out into the darkened street. Rain continues to streak down under the orange street lamps but there’s no sign of Becky’s Toyota.

  B-e-c-k-y. Just those 5 letters that make up the name of my wife’s best friend. That’s all it takes to fill my head with images and sensations of being on my hands and knees while she beat me. Shame and sexual excitement simultaneously surge through me, making me conscious at once of the chastity belt still between my legs.

  This thing needs to come off tonight. I’ve got to be able to start concentrating on my job and stop daydreaming all the time about sex - or rather, the lack of it.

  “Hi. You just missed Becky.” Lynne smoothes her long blonde hair out as she comes down the stairs in tight jeans and a black t-shirt. I try to kiss her but she turns her head and my lips make contact with her cheek.

  “I had some pasta with her earlier. Have you eaten?” I watch the roll of her plump buttocks as she passes me into the kitchen.

  “No, but it’s OK. I can fix myself something.” I’m anxious to soften her up, to get her in the mood and to get out of this belt tonight.

  As she reaches the fridge I’m right behind her, my arms over her shoulders making contact with her breasts and my groin against her ass. She sighs and wriggles free of me.

  “Becky asked me a favour when she came round before.” The wine bottle clinks as she pulls it from the fridge.

  “Oh? Right” I try to feign indifference as I take a seat at the kitchen table. I’m always anxious about showing too much enthusiasm when she mentions this friend.

  “One of Dominic’s clients is in the area tomorrow evening. He’s staying overnight at Becky and Dominic’s.” Lynne crosses to the cupboard and reaches for a wine glass. The deep purple and red liquid glugs as she pours.

  “Becky can’t be bothered cooking for them so they’re going out for a meal. The three of them.“ Lynne returns the bottle to the fridge then stands leaning against the worktop next to it. I look across the room at her, waiting for her eyes to meet mine, uncertain why she’s telling me this.

  “Becky’s met this client before. She said he’s about the same age as Dominic and when they both get together they’re a pain in the ass. Apparently the guy’s single and brings out the worse in Dom.“ She shrugs her shoulders. “Well, the ‘even worse’ in Dom as Becky calls it.” We both laugh.

  “So what’s the favor?”

  “She asked me if I’d go out to the restaurant with them all for the meal. Just so she doesn’t have to deal with them both.”

  I gulp audibly. Stay calm.

  I’m trying to digest what she just told me. Am I over-reacting or has Becky actually suggested my wife go out on a ‘date’ with another guy?

  Lynne is looking over at me, her eyes seeking mine. One of her arms is folded across her chest and the other holds her wine glass in front of her throat.

  What am I supposed to say here?

  “What did you tell her?” My words sound like a croak.

  “I said I didn’t know.”

  My stomach feels like it’s gripped in a vice made from her words. At the same time, and as pathetic as it might sound, pre-cum has started to seep.

  Th
e fact that my young wife hasn’t immediately dismissed the suggestion of going out on this ‘double-date’ with some older man she’s never even met. All because that’s what Becky wants. The probability that Becky thinks my feelings and our marriage vows of such little significance that she could even suggest this to my wife…

  I should be angry, but oh God, I’m not. How many times have I tried to get Lynne to contemplate the idea of another man and of cuckolding me? How often has she refused point-blank to entertain the idea?

  Part of me feels scared shitless of the risk. Another side of me is desperate to encourage my wife. I want to beg her to go out with this other, unknown guy. To accept Becky’s invitation and go and cuckold me - but I can’t.

  Not yet anyhow.

  Lynne’s head is tilted and I realize she’s waiting for my response. The words I need to choose now feel almost too important, too heavy to say.

  “What, what do you think?” I leave my seat and cross the room to the fridge next to her for a drink of my own. I have to steady my nerves.

  “I don’t know,” she slides her bottom lip back and forth under her top teeth and she lowers her baby blue eyes to the floor.

  “I guess I would just be helping out my best friend wouldn’t I?”

  I flip the lid from the beer bottle with unsteady hands. I feel the cool burn on my throat as I swig straight from the bottle.

  “And you are away on business tomorrow night anyhow aren’t you? So it’s not like we’d be losing out on any time together.”

  I nod my head, silently cursing the reminder of the early start and 2-day training course I need to drive up to in the morning.

  “I mean, the meal would probably only be for a couple of hours - and be very boring.”

  I glance at her next to me; so innocent-looking as she moves a lock of stray hair behind an ear. Her beautifully-formed little boobs sitting so pertly under her t-shirt. She’s convincing herself without any effort at all on my part. I decide I have to seize the chance.

  “You never know, you might quite like it.” I smile, trying to ease my own nerves and excitement but her eyes are still not meeting mine.

  “Some people might think it’s quite a horny idea. My sexy young wife out on a date with a much older man. Mmmm” I grip the front of my pants in my spare hand and turn to face her.

  Lynne sighs and rolls her eyes.

  “Oh you would think that. Not everything’s about sex you know Stuart. I’d just be helping Becky out.

  “No, of course not. I know that Babe.” My hand leaves my groin and massages the back of my neck.

  “I just thought it could be quite exciting too in a way. As long as you don’t really like the guy of course.”

  She doesn’t respond to my words so I continue.

  “And I guess if you were ever going to do anything like that then a double ‘date’ with a friend you can trust would be the safest way wouldn’t it?”

  Lynne crosses the room to the windowsill and picks up her phone.

  “Ok, I’ll tell her I’ll go.”

  Chapter Two

  In some ways it’s probably a good thing I’m hundreds of miles from home tonight while Lynne’s out on her ‘date’. At least here in the hotel I don’t need to worry about whether I should try to follow her. Try to watch her with him.

  I’m staring at the menu in the hotel bar but my cock continues to distract me. I’m being bombarded with thoughts of what my wife might do tonight. I’m wired with excitement but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared too. Does every would-be cuckold feel the same way?

  What if she likes this guy and he tries it on with her? What if he really wants to fuck her? She hasn’t had it in weeks. I wouldn’t put it past Becky to encourage Lynne to do it just to hurt me. God knows her friend seems to enjoy that.

  I lower a hand under the table, trying to discretely adjust the chastity belt into a more comfortable position around my semi-erection. I know for a fact that if Lynne had let me out of this cage before I left home, I’d have had to stop off at least once on the journey to jerk off. Never mind the frenzy that would have happened when I arrived in my hotel room tonight.

  “No way” She said last night, shaking her head at me when I asked her to get the key. “You’ll only change your mind and try to stop me going if you get your way with me now.”

  To be honest, my request was a little half-hearted. Even though I could almost cry with sexual frustration. It’s just that the thought of her keeping me celibate, even from masturbation while she’s out with some other guy; it blows my mind if I dwell on it.

  I check my phone again but there’s no message to say whether she’s left to go out yet.

  On a table next to me two guys who’ve told the whole bar they’re sales reps, talk lewdly about a couple of well-dressed women sat on the other side of the bar. I can hear them planning their approach. They’re negotiating with each other about who’s going to “shag” which of the women.

  My thoughts return to my wife. Has she decided what to wear for her night out? ‘Sexy’ with a short skirt or ‘sophisticated’? Will she care about the impression she makes on this guy? What will she want him to ‘feel’ about her? I wonder whether she’ll actually enjoy trying to excite him or if she really is only concerned with helping her friend.

  I watch in admiration as the sales guys make their way over to the two women. Almost immediately the guys are being bathed in smiles and then they’re all sitting together. I don’t know why I’ve never been able to get that kind of reaction from women. Those guys made it look so easy.

  The journey home on Friday is another long one. It seems to take forever. I may not have been able to jerk-off while I was away, but one thing I have been able to do plenty of is think. So much so that I’m exhausted by it.

  I got a text off Lynne just before 7pm last night to say she was on her way out. I asked her to take a selfie and send it me so I could see what she was wearing – but she didn’t. I did get a couple more texts off her up until around 10. One said “Nice restaurant shame about the conversation.” The last one just said something like ‘Going for drinks now x.’

  After that everything went quiet - even though I sent her 5 or 6 messages. Maybe I’m just tired from travelling and the training but I’m starting to feel insecure. It’ll be good to get some reassurance from Lynne once I’m back.

  By the time I do finally swing the car onto our street, I’m preoccupied and still lost in thoughts about Lynne and last night. It’s only when I’m tugging my overnight bag from the trunk that I notice the red sports car a little further up the road outside.

  Becky’s here.

  Immediately my palms start to sweat. My mind races out of control. It’s completely at odds with the speed that I start to walk up the drive. As slow as a crawl, I’m trying to buy myself time to think properly.

  What do I say to her - to them both? How do I react? Why can’t they keep away from each other?

  Even as I sense myself panic, my whole groin automatically tries to swell at the prospect of seeing and being near Becky again. The woman who took a riding crop to me the last time I saw her. I feel the self-consciousness ooze from my every pore even before I reach the front door.

  “I’m home!” I call, my voice sounding weaker than I’d like as I put my bag down in the hallway.

  “Hiya! We’re upstairs!” The tone of my wife’s voice soothes my insecurity. I pick up my bag again and climb the stairs, trying to further compose myself as I do.

  On the landing, I can see that our bedroom door is open and the room dimly lit. For a second, I wonder what will confront me when I reach it. I can’t hear anything.

  I cross the landing and feel a slight breeze blowing in through the open awning of one of our bedroom windows. Momentarily the room feels reassuringly familiar.

  “Hello Stuart,” On the edge of the bed, in a strapless flowery dress that just about covers her huge breasts, sits Becky. The corners of her feline eyes regard me.
Then, with the slightest of smiles and a flash of perfectly even teeth, she raises her chin and straightens her back.

  “Good to be home?” Her arms move up behind her head causing her chest to swell. Then she feeds her mane of long black hair through her hands before letting it fall back onto her shoulders.

  “Yeah, yeah thanks, it’s been tiring.” I become aware of the noise of the fan from the en suite.

  What do you say to the woman who has brought you to the verge of tears with a whip now that she’s sitting quite calmly in your bedroom? How do you say it? I’m scalding with embarrassment, wrestling with the alien sensation of stress in my own bedroom. I curse myself for the effect this beautiful woman wields over me.

  I don’t feel able to inconvenience Becky by asking her to move so I can put my case down on the bed to unpack. I rest it on the floor near her feet which are criss-crossed by the straps of her white and gold roman-style sandals.

  When I lift my head and my eyes accidentally linger at the hem of her skirt half way up her toned thighs; I realize I’m being observed.

  “Tut, Tut Tut,” she drawls the words slowly. “You’re not trying to look at my legs again are you Stuart? And in your own bedroom.” She shakes her head and her long dark hair sweeps her bare shoulders.

  Try as I might I can think of no response and stand there rinsing my hands together with my head down. I almost swoon with relief when I hear the door to the en suite opening.

  Lynne appears, barefoot with her dressing gown around her. Becky rises from the bed.

  “I’ll love you and leave you then,” Becky offers a cheek to Lynne and is kissed good bye.

  “So long Stuart. See you soon no doubt.” She doesn’t look back and I consciously keep my eyes off that ass as she glides elegantly from the room.

  “Babe am I glad to see you.” I rest my damp hands on my wife’s shoulders and plant my lips on hers.

  “I was just starting to make myself beautiful for when you got back.” Lynne starts brushing her hair.

  “What happened? I sent you loads of texts. I called you here, left a message”