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

by Tinto Selvaggio

  “Your turn Lynne” She nods towards the other peg in Lynne’s hand.

  “You do it Becky” Lynne shakes her head hurriedly and holds out her hand to her friend.

  As I alternate between holding my breath for extended periods and gulping the air, Becky repeats the procedure of attaching then tightening the second peg in place onto my other nipple. I’m blowing into my cheeks, unsteady on my knees as my shoulders twist and rock with the pain. But I don’t cry out again.

  Becky still hasn’t finished.

  Her long fingers dip into the little box between her and my wife. She extracts what looks like an oversized pair of black, oval-shaped drop earrings. Like two large flat stones. She grins at me and holding one of the stones she leans forward and down towards me again.

  She holds the oval stone in a delicate palm while she attaches it by its clip to my left nipple clamp. Then she releases it from her palm letting it drop heavily onto the flesh below my chest. My nipple is yanked violently and my whole body slumps forward with the pain. Now I can’t help but cry out.

  “Ah, Becky, Becky, Becky please...” I snatch a volley of rapid, shallow breaths, panting like a dog on an August afternoon. I grimace hard and raise a hand to the cool stone swinging off my chest. I lift it, supporting its weight, frantically trying to make the additional pain a little easier to bear.

  “Weighted nipple clamps for a more intense experience” She reads from a little leaflet inside the box. “In your case Stuart, the weights are for added motivation or in the event of you really disappointing me.”

  Next to her Lynne’s eyes seem to be filling up but still she’s not saying anything.

  “Let me balance it up with the other weight” Becky’s fingers return to the box.

  “No Becky please” I plead with her as one of my hands continues to support the weight of the stone already hanging from my nipple.

  She leans forward again, this time pausing to hold my gaze when her cleavage is just below my eyes. In one movement she clips on the second weight. My mouth gapes in a whispered scream.

  “Take deep breaths Stuart. It will make it easier for you.” Becky’s voice is calm and controlled as she leans back on the sofa watching me squirm.

  “I need the bathroom.” Lynne excuses herself and leaves the room.

  Each of my hands is raised to my chest, supporting the weights.

  When my wife has gone, Becky kicks off her little heels. Even through the pain I feel my cock surge in the chastity belt at the sight of her tiny bare feet. She stretches her toes with their dark purple nail polish in front of me.

  “The better or faster you perform the work you’re given …the sooner the nipple clamps can come off” Becky smiles down at me.

  She crooks an index finger beckoning me closer to her. Naked on my knees, holding the weights and willing the endorphins to kick in a mask the pain, I shuffle closer to her. My padlock knocks against the case of the chastity belt as I move.

  “I see you didn’t bother shaving your face” Becky’s fingers descend to my chin and I want to swoon at her touch.

  “I-I-I don’t a-a-at at the weekends Becky.” Each of my words fights a battle of its own to form in my mouth and to sound. I look up into her mocking eyes as I struggle to overcome the relentless pain locked on my nipples.

  “Hmm. Still, I expect stubble on the face can have its uses.” She lifts one bare foot off the floor and starts to raise it further. I try to quieten my own breathing.

  Her foot keeps rising until she presents it to my face. She’s sitting right back on the sofa, supporting the back of her raised leather-clad thigh with both hands.

  “Stubble ought to be great for exfoliating my feet. De-scaling them.“ Lynne returns to the room and Becky smiles over at her.

  “Get your hands off the weights!” Becky raises her voice and slowly, one at a time, I withdraw my hands from each of the oval-shaped stones. My face screws up and my teeth clench tightly as the weights drop down, tugging without mercy at my sensitive and already sore nipple ends. My shoulders slump forward.

  Becky pushes the sole of her bare foot right against my face. I don’t know whether my moaning is the pain of the nipple clamps or the ecstasy of her touch. Her flesh is warm and soft as butter as she pushes it hard against my nose and mouth, crumpling them. I hardly recognize my own breathing. I sound asthmatic. I can’t look at my wife as she takes her seat next to Becky.

  The only fragrance in my nostrils is the leather from the shoes Becky’s been wearing and her perfume. She brings her other knee underneath her raised leg to support it further. Her foot begins to move all over my face, wiping and rubbing itself. It forces my mouth, my nose, and my cheeks to contort as she moves them around. Gradually I realize I’ve lost awareness of the agony on my nipples.

  “Ooh, that tickled!” Becky shudders on the sofa and I forget myself. I close my eyes, losing myself in the experience of being used like a doormat by this beautiful woman above me.

  “Oh, keep your mouth closed Stuart - please!” She leans forward and down towards my gaping mouth, showing her cleavage and shouting in my face. I must have been trying to kiss her foot.

  All too soon she withdraws her leg and with a wicked smile lets her foot land heavily onto my groin. I’m winded. My head drops down trying to catch my breath. Her foot stays put between my legs.

  Oh my God! Becky’s foot on my cock!

  I sneak a rapid look up towards the sofa and next to Becky; Lynne is biting her bottom lip as she looks at the wall across the room.

  Becky begins to grind the ball of her foot into my groin, twisting and turning until her dainty little toes whiten with the pressure they’re applying. My mouth is forced open in an unspoken cry at the burning sensation as the cage cuts into me. My balls are squashed against the inside of my thighs making me almost throw up.

  But, Oh My God, Becky’s bare foot is around my cock!

  I wallow in my shame. I let my eyes slowly ascend. I don’t care. The bare strip of her belly, the magnificence of her overarching breasts, her normally plump lips tight with the effort of trying to crush my cock and balls. All this pain, my balls, my nipples, all because of Becky.

  Suddenly, almost before I know what’s happening I freeze with horror.

  I’m going to cum!

  I try to leap up off the floor away from Becky but she has both hands pressing on her knee, helping her foot push down hard on me. I gasp as my balls spasm. Becky must sense what’s happening. Rapidly she removes her foot.

  I let out a loud gasp of relief. Then I frantically try to cover the chastity belt with both my hands. My caged cock jerks upward and horrified I see both women above me staring wide eyed. A jet of yearning semen pumps out and upward from the slit at the end of my chastity belt. As if in slow motion I watch the fountain climb and reach its peak in front of us all. My balls spasm. Then another rope spurts skyward. A scream from one of the girls and I intercept the next squirt of hot fluid between my palms.

  “Oh my God! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Becky!”

  Lynne is up off the sofa across the room. “You’re disgusting!” she’s shouting.

  Standing a little closer with one hand covering her mouth and the other holding the riding crop is Becky.

  “I thought the idea was that you couldn’t come in that thing?” Becky laughs through her fingers.

  “Oh no, it’s on your lovely leather trousers Becky. I’m really sorry” Lynne points to a streak of silver cum up one of the legs of her friend’s pants.

  Before I can react, Becky steps towards me and the whip lashes across one of my hips. My hands are still cupped over my chastity belt holding the last of my cum and I topple forward. The oval weights lurch down and pulling heavily on my clamps. The whip whistles through the air again and my wife is screaming.

  When the women’s anger has fully subsided I’m left here on my knees holding my own semen between my hands. “Clean up your filthy mess.” They told me before disappearing
upstairs to change. Some of my cum had even landed on my wife’s blouse.

  By the time I’ve experienced the unbelievable pain of removing the nipple clamps, then soaping a couple of spots on the carpet and leather sofa and wiping myself down, there’s still no sign of either of them.

  I think about calling upstairs but decide against it. I’m afraid to, but at the same time I don’t want to be accused of idling when I could and perhaps should be cleaning.

  I continue to gently massage my red raw nipples and eventually, I decide I have no option but to venture upstairs. I’ll just knock, apologize again and ask what - if anything, they want me to do next.

  By the time I reach the landing at the top of the stairs I stop in my tracks. My wife is naked, her hair dishevelled. She’s coming out of Becky’s bedroom.

  She stops and stares at me.

  “What are you doing upstairs?” her face is flushed and before I can answer she adds:

  “I’m going to the bathroom; Becky’s taking a shower in the en suite before I have one.”

  I move towards her to take her in my arms, to apologize again and to kiss her. She shies away from me, turning her head. She doesn’t manage to turn quickly enough to prevent me seeing the wet sheen all around her mouth, her cheeks and her chin. Nor does she move away from me fast enough to deny me inhaling how she smells.

  The twin fragrances of her own perfume and Becky’s. Both are fused with the equally distinctive but slightly earthier aroma of pussy.

  Chapter Five

  In the car on the way back home from Becky’s Lynne and I don’t talk. Their trip to the mall was called off. Lynne’s head is turned away from me, gazing out of her window. I’m lost as well, in a whirlpool of my own thoughts about what I did and then what I saw.

  I came in front of them both. With this chastity belt still on! I came on Becky. I touch one of my achingly tender nipples through my shirt and feel my face burn as I replay the scene in my head. The look in Becky’s eyes when she saw what I’d done. Something more than mere disgust. A hint of triumph perhaps?

  I become aware of Lynne’s continued silence.

  I’m not sure if she’s still fuming about the mess I made. Or is her quietness now more to do with her own embarrassment at me seeing the state of her coming out of Becky’s bedroom? Maybe she feels betrayed by my obedience and submissiveness to her friend? Letting Becky strip, torture and beat me in front of her.

  Whatever Lynne has been preoccupied with, by the time we get to bed that night I feel like I’ve been treading on eggshells all evening. I certainly haven’t been brave enough to mention any of what happened today.

  I lie here in bed waiting for her to finish taking off her make-up. My hand is on my chastity belt underneath the duvet. I close my eyes and as I push the belt hard into my groin, I imagine that the pressure is Becky’s little foot, once again grinding into me. Pushing, teasing and taunting me, revelling in her power to keep me chaste.

  There’s something so humiliating about it being her mere foot that was enough to make me ejaculate. The fact that she controls my desire so much that even her foot hurting my balls, or her fingers torturing my nipples is enough to make me cum. I wonder whether that’s what’s making Lynne seem so upset?

  The door to the en suite opens and Lynne smiles thinly at me as she undoes the belt to her beige silk dressing gown. I catch a brief glimpse of her curvy body all naked again before she slips into bed. In that instant, the recalled smell of pussy, Becky’s pussy, all over her face and around her mouth on the landing, floods my nostrils.

  My cock is pulsating. I’m desperate to be touched. If I hadn’t come when I did I might have been free now. But Becky left me in no doubt that I’d stay locked after what I did.

  I turn to look at my wife and I want to slide down the bed on her, taste the juices that must have flooded with excitement when she was lapping at the honey between Becky’s long, long legs.

  “I can’t believe what Becky said to me.” She tells me once the light is out. Her voice sounds weak.

  “Why? What did she say?” I’m expecting the answer to be a tirade of insults about me.

  “She was really angry. She said I owed her one.”

  “Oh Lynne, I’m really sorry about what happened. I couldn’t help it. I’ve been strung-out with frustration, desperate.” I touch her shoulder in the dark.

  “She said if I really wanted to make it up to her then I should prove it. I should help her out with Dominic.” Her voice cracks as she speaks.

  “What do you mean: ‘help her out’?”

  “I can’t believe what she asked me to do.” Lynne’s head slowly shakes back and forth on her pillow.

  “What? What did she ask you to do?”

  “She’s always complaining about Dominic wanting sex all the time…”

  I nod my response, feeling my pulse quicken, scarcely daring to imagine what’s coming next.

  “About how he’s uncomfortably ‘big’ and ‘goes on forever’ when they do it. She’s always mentioning it. She says sometimes it hurts her when they do it”

  “Right” I reply slowly and adjust my cock cage as I feel the contents swelling with memory of Dominic’s huge dick swinging around my wife in that shared bath.

  “So she said that if I genuinely wanted to try to make it up to her after what you did...”

  “Go on….”

  “I should help her out with Dominic. In bed

  “You’re kidding?” I’m sit up and fumble for the lamp. As Lynne shields her eyes from the light my eyes are all over her, desperately trying to gauge how she feels about something which has my pulse racing uncontrollably.

  “No, she really said it.” Lynne’s voice sounds like she might cry.

  My insides feel electrified, like I’ve been dosing caffeine all day. The thought of that arrogant brute Dominic. Not content with being able to put his huge cock inside a woman like Becky whenever he wants - he now needs my wife’s little pussy as well. The fact that Becky has even suggested this to my wife inflames me.

  I’m in a daze as I imagine the damage a man built like Dominic and with his apparent staying power, could do to my wife’s expectations of sex and ultimately to our relationship. Possibly with just one fuck. Not to mention the damage his wife might already be doing.

  Lynne’s shoulder moves against me as she stares up at the ceiling. I lie back down and wonder what to say next.

  Led By Her 5

  A Dominant Female, Submissive Male Femdom Marriage Tale

  By Tinto Selvaggio

  Chapter One

  I hardly heard a word of that meeting at work this afternoon. I couldn’t focus on what was being said. I keep thinking about what’s going on at home. My wife and her best friend Becky don’t seem to be speaking and I’m left in limbo. Not least of all because Becky still has the key to this chastity belt which is hanging between my legs.

  I’ve got to get things sorted out and if Lynne won’t ask her friend for the key; I’m going to have to do it myself.

  I’m driving round to Becky’s now on the way home from the office. I don’t want to get into some long-winded conversation or argument with her on the phone. I need to ‘man up’ and tell her face-to-face I want the key. But the closer I get to her house, the less sure of myself I feel.

  A mile or so from Becky’s I pull up outside a 24 hour Grocery store with an ATM next to it. At least if I’ve got the cash she demanded last time I saw her it should soften her up. It might make her think twice about not giving me the key when I ask.

  I pull the cash and my card from the machine, stuff them into my trouser pocket and jump back into the car. Even a woman like Becky couldn’t seriously expect to keep someone else’s husband in chastity when she’s not speaking to his wife could she?

  Whether that’s true or not, I know that part of me is hoping for some kind of ‘complication’ when I do get to Becky’s.

  A few minutes later I turn into her street and see her red Toyota o
n the drive. The trunk and driver’s door are wide open. My hands are clammy on the steering wheel as I turn off my engine. I lean across to the glove-box then reach inside it for the breath-freshener.

  Becky’s front door is open. Suddenly, she appears there. Head to toe in black. She pauses for a moment when she sees me. Then she continues down her drive towards her car. Statuesque curves swathed in tight leggings, a figure-hugging low cut jumper and shiny black knee-length boots. Her hair is pulled back severely behind her in a high pony tail which whips around her neck as she walks.

  My heart hammers in my chest. I open the car door and self-consciously lock it behind me.

  “Hi Becky”

  “Stuart. To what do I owe this great pleasure?” She has her back to me, sorting through bags of shopping in her trunk. My stomach and chest tighten, overawed by the monumental roundness of her buttocks.

  “I was just hoping to have a word with you.”

  “Oh? Really?” Heavily made-up eyes look over her shoulder at me.

  “If you have a couple of minutes I mean.” All my bravado and determination are wilting at the sight of her. It would be difficult enough to keep calm in the presence of any woman who looked like her. When she’s also the female my wife has gone down on, the one who’s beaten me with a riding crop, spat in my face, slapped me and she holds the key to my chastity belt – calmness is impossible.

  “Well why don’t you make yourself useful? Bring my bags in for me. There’s a good boy.” She turns from the trunk carrying a small designer shoe box and I watch her long, booted legs stride up the path towards her house.

  I’ve come here to get the key, or to have her unlock me, but seeing her again – all that changes. Nothing else seems to matter. Not my job, not the money I can scarcely afford to hand over and not the freedom for my cock. All I want now is to suffer for this incredible creature. In an instant I know I couldn’t bare this relationship to end. I have to save things somehow.

  “Leave them at the bottom of the stairs” A slender finger decorated with purple nail polish points down to the floor near her boots. Then she continues into the kitchen.