Instead of which, I leave the woman I claim to love alone with another couple who I’ve seen for myself are merely using and abusing her. When Dominic’s not fucking her and Becky’s making her do who knows what - she’s being used as a domestic servant! Insanely, the very thought has me scampering to jerk-off yet again in the bathroom.
Almost as soon as I’ve cum, the shame at our situation swells and fights with my own crazy jealousy at not now myself being the servant Becky needs and wants.
Didn’t I give her the opportunity to use me again yesterday? I told her how much I missed serving her. Should I have been more direct with her? Maybe I could have come right out with it and asked her point blank to use me once more?
I have two reports I need to get done for Monday morning but it’s hard to stay focussed on them feeling like I do. Every time I hear a car I hear I think it might be Lynne. I feel like I’m going out of my mind. I need to know everything’s alright with her and I. She should be back here with me - full time. Not just ‘once in a while’ when it suits Becky or Dominic.
I’ve not long finished my lunch when a car does pull up outside. All I could manage was a bowl of chicken soup and even that’s repeating on me now. I look outside and am immediately in ‘emergency’ mode.
Becky’s car!
I race upstairs to make myself look presentable. Brush my hair again, freshen my breath, change my top – and jeans. Oh God she’s here!
I reach the bottom of the stairs just as both women come into the hall. Lynne in jeans and jumper without much make-up. Becky, immaculate in tight leather pants and a loose-fitting cream top which bares one of her toned shoulders. Her hair is up behind her head like a thoroughbred.
I try to kiss Lynne’s cheek on the stairs but she hurries past me.
“I’ve only come back for some clothes. I’m going to stay at Becky’s for a few days,” she says.
My stomach churns. Aroused though am to see Becky again so soon, I need my wife back home with me.
“Leave her Stuart,” Becky says firmly as I start to climb the stairs, “Come and talk to me instead.” she beckons and leads me into my own kitchen.
“Some green tea would be nice if you have it” she smiles down her perfectly-straight nose. Becky pulls out a chair from the dining table and without being invited to; she sits. She crosses her long legs, drawing my eyes to an inch or two of bare ankle exposed between her leather pants and black suede ankle boots.
“How long will Lynne be staying at yours for?” I say in between deep breaths to steady myself. It almost makes me laugh that I have to ask another person when my wife will be coming back to me.
“Just until the weekend Stuart. She’ll be returned to you don’t worry.” She takes her tea from my unsteady hands. “You do know you’ve brought this on yourself with your attitude to her tattoo....and by trying to grope her all the time don’t you?” She looks at me like I’m a distasteful, inconvenient child.
“There’s really no need to behave that way with her Stuart. You’ll drive her away. She deserves better.”
I want to sit down, my knees feel unstable but somehow it feels more apt to continue standing in front of Becky. My life is slipping out of my control.
Becky raises an arm to smooth her hair and my eyes are drawn to the spellbinding swell of her bosom. Oh God, the sight of her...I feel I’m going insane. Even nauseous with worry about what’s happening to my wife and I, my very being aches for this woman in front of me.
“Becky,” I say quietly then check the hallway to make sure there’s no sign we’re likely to be disturbed. “Last night when we were talking..” the knots in my stomach tighten with each word I try to pick.
“Oh yes, when you were telling me how much you missed me,” she interrupts, a little smile spreading over her lips, “That was very sweet.” She tilts her head and crinkles her nose at me as if trying to humour a simpleton.
“Well I want you to know I meant it Becky.”
“Really?” she touches her lips with the slim manicured fingers of one hand in exaggerated wide-eyed surprise. Like a fresh-faced would-be actress at a Hollywood casting.
“I once told you I’d do anything for you Becky,” I say, feeling my face burn, “I still would Becky, anything you wanted.”
“So you say.” She sighs.
“I would, I mean it. Just say the word.”
“I’ve moved on Stuart.” She sips her tea.
“Just tell me what you want Becky, there must be something I can do for you.” I wring my hands together, watching her drink and making a mental note not to wash the cup (or let her seat cool) after she’s gone.
“I really don’t think there’s anything you could do that would interest me Stuart.” She lifts her chin and gazes around the room.
“What about the money I used to give you?” An image of my latest bank statement flashes through my mind. Still holding my own hands in front of me, my arms tighten against my sides. “I haven’t had the chance to give you that recently. I could increase it...” I hate myself as soon as I make the offer.
“Won’t be much longer Becky!” Lynne shouts from upstairs, “Just trying to find all my make up.”
“You haven’t been borrowing your wife’s make up again have you Stuart?” Becky smirks at me.
“I was just saying about the money Becky,”
“Ah yes, your monthly ‘tribute’. Actually, I haven’t missed it that much. Dominic’s business is doing very well these days. Although of course, every little helps – as the saying goes”
“Then let me pay you Becky Please?”
“Hmm,“ she holds her tea in both hands and looks towards the ceiling, “I’m not sure it would be wise to start all that again Stuart.”
“Please Becky, I’ll do whatever you want. “ My hands are clasped together in front of me, as if I’m about to pray. Cold blue eyes regard me. She uncrosses her legs then crosses them the other way, making my balls shrivel with desire.
“I suppose I do have a rather onerous credit card balance at the moment.” She smiles shyly. “All those new clothes I bought at the sales.” she traces the rim of her cup with an index finger and looks at me out of the corner of her eye.
“I’ll pay that off for you Becky.” I say hurriedly. I can’t believe I just said that.
“But you don’t even know how much it is Stuart” she pouts and looks into her cup.
“I don’t care.” I lie, my stomach turning over at what I’m promising this cruel, uncaring female.
She arches her back, stretching herself and causing her chest to push out, swollen in front of me.
“But what would you be expecting in return Stuart? That’s the question I have to ask myself isn’t it?”
“Nothing Becky - absolutely nothing. Just to be of some use to you. To help make your life even better. Any way you say. I’ll do whatever you tell me to. Just say the word Becky.“ I realise at some point, I must have got down onto my knees because that’s where I am. Kneeling on my kitchen floor.
“You can lock me in chastity again if that makes you happy. Throw away the key. If that’s what you want. I’ll never have sex again if you tell me not to. I promise. I don’t care.” I long to touch the ankle and small boot in front of me - so near my face. I know I daren’t. Instead, I lower my eyes to the floor and silently pray for a positive response.
Time stands still until she speaks again.
“You’d give up sex completely for me?.....Forever? Just because I said so?” She says slowly from above me. I let the magnitude of her words and what I’ve offered swim around my head. All the while I inhale deeply yet silently to scavenge the fruity, oriental scent of her perfume.
“Yes, if that’s what it would take...”
“What do you mean by ‘If that’s what it would take’?” her voice is throaty.
My eyes glance at the length of her shapely calves, defined like dark alabaster in her tight leather jeans.
“If, if that’s what it wo
uld take to make you happy with me, to be.....used by you again”
“I wonder what your lovely wife would say about this?” A boot slowly swings out and touches my chin. She applies pressure, lifting my head back so that she can look down into my eyes.
“Her husband offering to give up making love with her forever...just to please me. “ Her boot is digging into my chin now, making my head rise and my neck muscles strain.
“Mind you, I don’t think she’d be missing much Stuart do you?” Becky’s eyes narrow at me. I shake my head in response, moving the underside of my chin against the toe of her boot as I do so.
“Give up sex forever for me,” a would-be movie actress again; she strokes her own chin. “That’s quite an act of devotion.”
“I promise I’d do it for you Becky. I’d give up that and anything else you wanted.“
“I’m not sure how practical a chastity belt would be as a permanent feature. Maybe I should arrange for some form of body modification.” There’s wild look in her eye and she swings her leg, rocking my chin with the toe of her boot so that my teeth knock together.
“Can you imagine something that would permanently prevent you playing or using that little maggot between your legs? I might get you to look into that for me...” she smiles slyly.
“Yes Becky, I will. If that’s what you want.”
Becky’s boot moves from my chin and I lower my head, nudging the back of it under the sole of her foot and letting the boot rest on top of me. She doesn’t move it.
“Perhaps I could even negotiate a discount. I’ve asked Lynne to consider some modifications.” she murmurs.
“Lynne?” I crane my neck to look up at her.
“She didn’t mention them to you?” She tilts her head, teasing me. “I’ve asked her to get this done,” she pokes out her little pink tongue and taps it with an index finger. “And I’ve asked her to make some adjustments elsewhere.” She smiles at like someone with a secret they would love to tell - just maybe not yet.
Ice seeps through my veins at the idea that my wife could be keeping something like this from me. Piercings at the command of another woman?
Floorboards creaking on the landing upstairs yank me from my sense of shock. Lynne’s on her way downstairs. I pull myself unsteadily to my feet, brushing the knees of my pants as I do.
“Come and see me around 1pm tomorrow.” Becky whispers, her pupils dilated.
“You can pay me your financial tribute. And I’ll introduce my new slave to you. I’ve had an idea for a little fun.”
Chapter Six
It takes me five sessions with my hand in the bathroom before I can calm down and think straight after Becky has left and taken my wife away again. The implications of everything she said to me and all that I offered to her flood my mind. Later it wakes me several times in the night after I’ve gone to bed and do finally get off to sleep.
Piercings? My wife herself has always called them ‘Disgusting’ when she sees them on other people. Another slave? Who the hell is it? Is it a ‘he’? How could she do that? Where did she meet him? Is this why she hasn’t needed me for so long? And the money? Where is her ‘increased’ monthly fee even going to come from? Never mind the unknown size of her credit card debt I’ve promised to pay off. And promising to never have sex again? What the hell was I thinking of? There’s no way she could seriously try to make me do that.
My emotions take miss-timed slaps at each other like drunken women fighting in a bar-room. Shame, disgust and worry turn into seeping arousal which mutates info frenzy as I remember Becky looking down at me on my knees today. Any possibility of telling the woman I long to worship that ‘All this has to stop’; ceased a long time ago. There’s no point even pretending otherwise.
Nothing could stop me going to her house later today like she told me to. I don’t care who’s there. I’ll show her what she’s been missing without me. I’ll meet this other would-be slave and I’ll put him (or her) to shame.
‘Stay calm, stay calm. You can do this Stuart.’ By the time I pull up outside Becky’s two minutes before 1pm all my certainty has abandoned me. I turn off the car engine and try to gulp the air into my lungs slowly, to help relax my nerves. You can do this.
Only Becky’s Toyota is on the drive so at least it seems that Dominic isn’t around too – which is a relief. I check my watch and almost panic as the second hand sweeps around to the hour. The last thing I want to do is be late. Not after all I’ve promised.
I knock on the familiar door. My heart thumps in my chest as I wait. I peer across to the bin and feel my face redden at the memory of being caught there by Dominic.
“You better come in” says the deep voice. An embarrassed-looking, naked male stands framed by Becky’s now-open back door. For a second, as I stand and consider running; I don’t recognise him. Then I realize it’s his hair that’s different. Evan, Becky’s neighbour from her house party. He doesn’t have his hair slicked back today. Rather, it’s loose and so looks longer and untidy on his head.
I keep my eyes above shoulder height, away from the bare groin that I last saw being thirstily sucked by my own wife at the party. He’s Becky’s new slave? What the fuck?
“Are you two boys getting reacquainted out there?” Becky’s voice calls from the kitchen behind Evan. Looking almost as awkward as I feel, Evan gestures for me to go through into the house.
“Do you remember Evan; Cara’s husband Stuart?” Becky sits with her head in the air on a stool at the breakfast bar. She straightens her back, drawing my eyes away from her bare legs in a very short black skirt. I gaze at the bootlace tie-up across her half-exposed cleavage on her bottle green blouse. Her body so close to being revealed to eyes which long for her. So close, yet they may as well be a million light years away. Becky straightens her back and lifts her chin. I sneak a glance at the 5 or 6 inches of her flat bare belly below her crop top blouse.
“Yes Mistress Becky, I do remember Stuart.”
“Did you hear that Stuart? How Evan addresses me?” Becky grins at me. She snaps her fingers and points to her coffee cup. Evan leaps into action, his bare buttocks tensing and releasing as he hurries across to her coffee machine.
‘Mistress’ Becky? Who does this guy think he is? I could have called her ‘Mistress’ if that’s all she wanted.
“So Stuart, I think you ought to take your clothes off as well don’t you? It’s not really fair on Evan here if you don’t is it?”
“No Becky” My stomach twists at the sight of this other, taller man assuming a role that should be rightfully mine.
Becky dismisses me to the laundry room with her wrist. Once inside there I hurriedly strip and report back in front of her; for once without my chastity belt on. Evan stands to attention at her side. I suck in my stomach so I don’t look flabby to her compared with him his flat belly.
“That’s better Stuart,” Becky grins. She looks between my legs then her nose crinkles. She half covers her mouth with a hand. ”I’d forgotten just how small you were down there Stuart,” she giggles. “Go stand next to him Evan. Let me compare you both.”
With what looks suspiciously like a smirk, Evan steps away from Becky and the skin of his bare shoulder touches mine as we stand together facing her.
Becky looks over wide-eyed from her stool. She leans forward, hands on her bare knees. “No comparison at all really is there?” She slides off her seat and slinks her way over in her tight skirt and strappy heels. I try to slow my breathing as she approaches.
She stands in front of Evan and traces his chest with long, manicured fingernails. I feel him shudder next to me.
“Eyes ahead!” she shouts and although I don’t know which one of us she’s talking to; I obey.
She leans forward and extends her arm between Evan’s legs. “Doesn’t Evan have a beautiful body Stuart?” Becky murmurs, “Toned belly, tight ass and this is a very lovely cock..” her voice is soft and thick. Her arm moves slowly, rhythmically forward and back.
<
br /> Oh my God she’s touching him there! She’s playing with his cock. I keep my eyes dead ahead as instructed, sucking in my stomach and straightening my back. I could vomit.
Evan’s whole body has tensed against me. I think I hear him let out a tiny whimper as the movement of Becky’s arm continues. I slide my eyes to the side and his eyes are closed, mouth hanging open. She moves in further towards him.
How can she do this to him with me standing so close? Me wanting her so much? Just a touch...
She leans over the other side of his head, whispering into his ear. Excluding me. His eyes remain closed but he nods. Becky steps away from him and he gasps.
“Don’t you dare Evan!” She yells at him, “No cumming!”
“N-No, Mistress Becky” he stammers, his erection springing around in front of him, worryingly close to me.
“Off you go Evan. Fetch.” She draws out the last word.
I wince with sadness as I remember the days I would be spoken to like a dog by her. I yearn for everything to be the same again.
“Were you surprised to find Evan here, the way you used to be?” Becky looks at me with excitement in her eyes once Evan has left. She shuffles her round bottom back onto her stool and crosses long legs in front of me. I will my bare cock not to stiffen.
I resist the urge to remind her she never fondled my cock the way she just did Evan’s.
“Yes Becky.” I say, and as I contemplate how much more impressive Evan’s penis must have looked when alongside my own moments ago, I fold my hands over my own shrivelled cock.
“Hands away!” Becky yells and an exquisitely-shaped bare leg shoots out toward me. The top of her foot crashes into my knuckles and I’m winded.
When I’ve caught my breath and look over at her, that beautiful face is screwed into a frown, her face tight.
“Oh course Evan’s wife isn’t aware of the games he plays here with me.” Becky’s face relaxes, “She’s such a prude.” Becky curls her top lip.
Led By Her 8: A Dominant Female Submissive Male, Group Humiliation & Sharing Tale Page 3