The Key

Sorry for the long wait, guys - thanks for your patience. A special thanks to CW - I'm flattered you're enjoying my little tale. I've been a fan of your writing for a very long time. Finally, here's Chapter 25...

Don

Chapter 25




I woke back in my office, alone, groggy, and shaken. Then I was panic-stricken; how and when did I get there? It was nearly dawn and I couldn't account for much of the night. Slowly, the events of the previous hours returned. I had barely been able to make out the other two couples in the room, but the image of Amanda's stunning body was instantly recognizable. Gradually I recalled her warm mouth on me, the absence of my cage, and her last words to me, that now she truly knew who I was. When I searched between my legs, I found my cage in place once again. My clothes were unchanged, merely slightly wrinkled from s l e e p i n g slumped over my desk. My office was undisturbed. Charles's scotch was no longer there on my desk. Was it all a dream?

As the morning light filtered through the blinds of my window, my monitor came to life displaying the same spreadsheet I was editing the night before. There were no new messages on my computer or phone. A few office early-birds began to arrive, thankfully accustomed to my early hours. As the office came to life, Charles wandered through my door with his first coffee. He sat across from me, set his cup near the front of my desk, looked up at me, and frowned.

"Have you been here all night, sport? You look terrible. Is something wrong?"

"It's just that, well, I guess I was working late and fell asleep, Charles. Too many deadlines piling up, I guess. I'll get some coffee, and I'll be fine."

He stared more closely, right into my eyes. "Maybe I'm working you too hard. Not that it isn't appreciated. Tell you what - there'll be something extra in your next paycheck this week to thank you. And, I'll be getting you some help soon, just as I promised."

At that instant, an image of Amanda appeared on my screen, but one I had never seen or imagined. She was standing with her hands on her hips, dressed like a hooker, leering at me. A black half-bra pushed her delicious breasts forward, her nipples hard and scarlet. A lace garter belt held black stockings at mid-thigh exposing her soft, white flesh above the border. I recognized the black stilettos she had worn to the office with Nickolas. Amanda's hips were canted forward, the naked lips of her pussy swollen, open, and wet. Her last words came back to me instantly. "Now you know me..."

"Hello? Are you okay, sport?" Charles asked impatiently."

"So, you dressed her like this? To prove to me that she's your whore?" I told him, now fuming. I swiveled the monitor toward him and waited for his response. I was sure it would be one more opportunity for him to pile on another dose of h u m i l i a t i o n.

"What? It looks like a spreadsheet, sport. I already thanked you for last night. What else do you want from me?"

When I turned it back toward me, the image of Amanda was still there, still leering like his whore.

"You're fucking with me, right?" I said. "You know damn well it's Amanda. You put it there. Fine, I admit it - she's your slut now. Okay?"

Charles rose and circled my desk to have a look. Amanda's image continued to stare at us.

"I see a spreadsheet, sport - the same one you've been working on all night. I think you need some *****. Go home. Take the day. Get some rest. I don't want you here at work like this. Who knows what you'll fuck up?"

As we watched, the image faded and my spreadsheet returned as though it was there all the while. Maybe it was time to consider that Charles was right. I couldn't be sure anything was real - maybe I was still dreaming.

Seconds after Charles left me, another image appeared. Amanda's mouth engulfed the head of a huge, veiny cock. Her eyes were closed in ecstasy, and a trickle of pearly white semen oozed from the corner of her mouth. She was naked, on her knees between the thick, muscular legs of an unknown man, his face out of sight above the edge of the frame. Her words returned as a breathless whisper, eerily emanating from the speakers on either side of my monitor.

"And now you know me..."

Her message continued after her image disappeared and the spreadsheet returned. My furtive attempts to quiet it failed, no matter how I tried. It went on and on, endlessly. There was no doubt it was Amanda's voice. Its subtly erotic tone seemed to become more sexual as I listened, beckoning me and flaunting her thirst for men unlike me - bigger, more powerful, aggressive ones. I listened for a while until I felt my dick strain against the bars of my cage. Finally, I tore myself away from her siren's song, killed the computer, and left for home.

I envisioned nearly every man I saw on my way home as Amanda's potential lover. It began in the parking garage on the way to my car when I passed a hulking guy in a skin-tight t-shirt emblazoned with the name of the popular gym at street level. He grinned at me and nodded as though he had just used Amanda's body during his lunch hour and was thanking me for letting my wife cum on his cock. It continued while driving as I looked left and right into the cars beside me at stop signs and traffic lights. Finally, along our quiet street, a shirtless boy circled a neighbor's lawn on a riding mower, his lean, muscular torso shiny with sweat. He grinned at me as he watched me pass by. Had he fucked Amanda too, long before we had even met Charles? How many times had she enjoyed his youthful stamina, so available there any time she wanted him? Which one might she pick? Had she found all of them better lovers than I had been throughout our marriage?

Then came the more anxious thoughts that brought to a boil more conflicting feelings - it would get me hard if I watched any of them take her, I was almost certain of it. My beautiful wife fucking all these strange men. Would I remain a husband who sanctioned my wife's infidelity forever, surrendering to the reality that I would never again satisfy her? After all, so many well-equipped lovers had given her the satisfaction she needed. It made me feel useless and unworthy of her beauty and scorching new sexuality, but I was darkly aroused as well.




***

Once at home, I napped for a while, unable to escape surreal dreams of my beautiful Amanda parading naked along our street, entering house after house each time a hung, horny man offered her a fistful of cash. I'd wait patiently outside until she appeared again, her tiny purse bulging with money, her devasting smile aimed directly at me. She'd stop a few inches from me, her new breasts pressed lightly against my chest, her wide eyes penetrating mine. Then the words spilled from her lips again, the ones that continued to haunt me. "And now you know me..."

I wasn't sure whether it was the pain of my dick throbbing against the bars of my cage or the bell and loud knocking that woke me. When I finally went to the door, I found a smartly dressed couple there, stone-faced, in matching dark suits. I opened the door expecting the worst - another of Charles's kinky scenarios with his increasingly outrageous demands. Then the man held up a small wallet and flipped it open to reveal the large, formidable letters - "FBI".

I panicked, now fearing I'd lose Amanda, and spend time in prison. But what for? Had I really broken any federal laws? Had Amanda? Allowing Amanda to fuck the men Charles involved in his business certainly wasn't a crime, was it? Was it prostitution if Amanda's position now included legitimate work for Charles? Still, after the past day and night, my mind was scattered and littered with doubts about what was real and what wasn't.

They sat together across from me after their introduction. Then came their questions.

"How long have you worked for Charles Moros? What do you know about Nickolas and Victor Waltz? It's best that you cooperate - we've been tracking your network activities at work and at home now for some time. We'll know if you're not being truthful."

The last remaining bit of my ability to resist collapsed. It was more than enough to break me. So, I told them - everything: how Charles rewarded us for Amanda's sexual favors, and how I looked the other way to benefit from it. I admitted I hadn't tried to stop Amanda's infidelity; the financial rewards for both of us were much too tempting to abandon. Still, I just couldn't bear to confess that it excited me. I played the victim, held prisoner in Charles's net of perversity and reward. I told them Amanda was inexperienced and innocent. The sex was new and irresistible to her - a w o m a n - c h i l d in a candy store of overpowering, delicious sensations she had never known. I went on and on, veering from one confession to another, babbling and stammering, unable to stop - until they did it for me.

"We know all about the games you people play," the woman said, finally. "That your wife lets Charles sell her for his personal gain, and that you're aware of it. We've been investigating Charles for some time now; we've collected every scrap of information from both his network servers and his dark web sex site. We've seen all of it. Your wife can slut for him all she wants - that's not our concern. Nor is your strange fascination with her infidelity. When was the last time you saw Eric Singleton?"

I had almost forgotten him. Then, suddenly, there it was again, the image of his youthful face watching Amanda from his window, masturbating to my wife's perfect body as she played with herself for him. Then he was my boss, taking Amanda in our bed whenever he wanted her. Amanda had been obsessed with his cock, and wanted him more desperately as time passed. Then, almost as suddenly, he had left the company and our bed, never to be heard from again.

"I - I'm not sure, really," I answered, now more suspicious with each question. "He was our neighbor at first, just out of college. Then Charles hired him to run our IT department, so he became my boss. I thought he was too green for the position, but Charles liked him. After that, he didn't show up one day, and Charles said he had left with no notice. There was something about his parting that Charles didn't like beyond that though. I assumed he had taken confidential information with him. Charles can be obsessive about safeguarding company secrets. Security has been a big part of my job after Eric left."

I became aware that I had been talking to the woman almost exclusively while her partner took notes. I couldn't help imagining what she might look like with her tightly bound, raven hair loosened about her shoulders. The classic features and icy, green eyes were intoxicating. Her legs were slim and long, with a few inches of firm, ivory thigh revealed below the hem of her navy-blue skirt. The well-defined lines of her calf caught my eye each time the ball of her foot pressed into the thick pile of the carpet. She pulled her legs under her when she caught me glancing at them, and the cadenced tone of her voice reminded me she was all business. I looked away, embarrassed and fearful.

"He was having sex with your wife while you worked for him, wasn't he?" she asked in a continued flat monotone. "Did that upset you? Did you resent your new boss, a man half your age, openly having sex with your wife? Others you worked with must have known."

"I - I thought you, um, knew about these things. That I allowed it. At times I resented it. It was partly my fault. It was just sex, not any kind of emotional entanglement. Actually, she was grateful that I allowed her to play out her longtime fantasy. We were having issues, in the bedroom. She was always attracted to younger men, so I thought it might help."

"We found Mr. Singleton recently..." she told me, studying my reaction, "...in a shallow grave near the river. He had been there for some time. We found a bullet entry in the back of his skull. Do you own a gun?"

I gasped as though she had shot me herself, her imaginary bullet smashing into my chest, taking my breath away. "I don't. I've never owned a gun. I mean never - never! I couldn't do that - to anyone. No matter what."

"Even if he was using your wife as his sexual plaything, right under your nose?" she went on accusingly.

"It's - not - like that!" I cried. "You don't understand. You don't know all of it. Sometimes, I watched. I wanted to see her happy - to give her something I couldn't. Why would I k i l l him? I - I liked it. Watching them have sex, watching him satisfy her. Jesus, I liked it! Why would I want it to end?"

"You know there are videos, don't you? Of your wife with quite a few men? We know you know, because we have them as well - all of them. We know you've been prying into places on Charles's network that contain his secrets. That wall you've been hitting isn't his, it's ours. Your predecessor wasn't all that attentive after creating Charles's virtual 'vault'. We converted it to a "honey pot" quite a while ago, and he didn't even notice. Charles's vault contains vast resources for our investigation. We have free access to everything, including your wife's porn he's stored there. Unfortunately, they were leaked to the dark web before we intervened. From there, they found their way to an internet site open to the public. I'm afraid she's a very popular item for those willing to pay a large fee to see her perform. You're there in some of those clips as well, watching, masturbating while your wife services those men."

She stopped and sat quietly, waiting for me to - what? Deny it? Confess to my part in the kinky sex games? Then confess to Eric's m u r d e r as well?

"Relax," she said, after giving me time to squirm. "We just wanted to observe your reaction. We didn't know how far you'd go to protect the people you work for. As interesting as your little sex games were to some of our people, they're not what we're after. If you allow these men to have sex with your wife, and she enjoys it, fine; we really don't care. But you can still help us. In fact, you'd better, or you'll go down with the others for withholding evidence. That said, we don't want her involved in our investigation just yet. At this point, we require your confidentiality. Cooperate, and you and your wife will get through this unscathed. That won't be the case if you say one word to anyone about our talk here today. Understand?"

"So, what do you want?" I begged. "Anything - anything you need. But you can't go after Amanda."

"As scandalous as Amanda's story is, she's not our target," she assured me. "But we expect her to help us as well, eventually. She may know things you don't, things she's learned from 'associating' with these other men." The way she said "associating" made me squirm with embarrassment.

"So, who is your 'target' then?" I asked. "What and who are you after?"

She glanced over at her partner. He stopped taking notes and then nodded back at her.

"Charles really is in the import-export business," she told me. "He's made a fortune doing it, for years. His business always seemed a bit shady - the vast wealth he's accumulated far exceeded the income his company reported, and the IRS has audited him every year for the past five years. We decided to watch from a distance instead of going after him right away. We've had undercover agents abroad watching for two years now. Charles's imports appear to be innocent enough, but his 'exports' include weapons and classified information to several international enemies of the state, cleverly laundered and delivered by powerful partners, some of whom you and your wife know quite well by now. So, feel free to allow your pretty wife to have sex with anyone she likes; in fact, you should probably encourage her to stay close to Charles and his associates. Anything she hears or sees may become important evidence when we close in to convict. It may make the difference between your freedom and a prison sentence for both of you. We're after much bigger game here than you and Amanda, but you both have to cooperate and help us put them away when the time comes."

"You want me to encourage her? To have sex with criminals? What about her safety? She has no idea what kind of men she's involved with. How can I encourage her to do that?"

Her answer came with a smug look of disapproval. "Well, you've encouraged her to have kinky sex with these men for months now for financial gain. And from what I've seen, much of it has been for your own enjoyment as well. Offering your wife to powerful men who lord over you, willingly surrendering her to them for sex shouldn't be that difficult for you to continue; you've been 'encouraging' her to do it for over a year. And I think you had a pretty fair idea what kind of men you were dealing with. It's too late to play innocent now. My final advice to you; if you don't want you and your wife to end up in the same unpleasant place as those who are using her, make sure she keeps milking them for information we can use. Since having sex with them is likely the most effective activity we can see to do that, continuing to encourage her is a significant way to escape this as a couple with your ultimate freedom and what's left of your reputations intact."

"And I suppose you'll be watching all of it," I said. I couldn't look at her.

"You do know we're not the only ones, don't you?" she reminded me. "Amanda's very popular out there, if one knows where to look. And those videos are gaining 'fans' by the day. You might consider that as well."

What the fuck was I supposed to do? Amanda had no idea. I couldn't let her go down with Charles and his people; she didn't deserve that. But I couldn't lose her either. So, I agreed to help them.




***

A week passed. Charles left me alone. I made real progress updating his systems. I hadn't seen or heard from Amanda, and that scared me. It was all too normal, too much like none of it had happened. I guessed Nickolas was keeping her busy, milking her for information about Charles's business, and then giving her his huge cock at night. Not knowing made my dirty fantasies about them less arousing, and I worried about her safety. My anxiety was laced with the shame I felt for letting Nickolas use my wife as the slut he created. Had she decided to stay with him? Just for his cock?

I met Ken when Charles ushered him into my office one morning. Charles introduced him as my new assistant, just as he had promised. I was surprised to find he wasn't Eric's doppelganger; there wasn't a hint of arrogance and definitely not a trace of Eric's good looks. His hand was smaller than mine; it was moist and clammy when we shook. He seemed almost apologetic for winning the position. The eventual upside was that he was young, bright, and motivated. From the very instant we met, I thought he looked familiar in a vague, puzzling way.

"It's your lucky day, sport," Charles told me. "Actually, my lucky day too. Kenny graduated at the top of his class. I'll get my projects done in half the time, and you'll have more time at home instead of spending nights here at the office. But don't worry - Kenny isn't afraid of long hours when it's necessary, are you Kenny boy?"

"Definitely not, Mr. Moros," Ken answered, with exactly the kind of humility I knew Charles looked for in a new employee. "I'm glad to be here - you won't be sorry you hired me."

Charles left us to get acquainted, and I resorted to small talk at first, asking about his family, hobbies, and how we might divide the work. He was so nervous I wasn't certain of any of his answers. He just wanted to please, to impress on his first day. I thought getting him out of the office for lunch might relax him - somewhere he wouldn't be a curiosity for a while. It worked, and he began to unwind after a few beers.

"Well, my wife, Chrissy, and I have been married for two years now. She's great, and elated I got the job. It's a jungle out there, and the pay here amazed both of us. We're looking for our first new house, so Chrissy's delighted we can afford more than we expected. No kids, for now. Chrissy found this great job she loves at a local gallery right after she graduated. It's long hours, and the pay's not great, but she's happy, and that's what matters."

I couldn't help observing his overly ambitious optimism. And then there was his ingratiating manner, as though the position had rescued him from recent times of desperation. But there was something else beneath it. Something he struggled to hide. Something I couldn't put my finger on. Maybe I didn't want to.

We spent the afternoon reviewing the upgrades Charles had wanted. I let him have the parts he felt most confident with, most of them not exactly in my wheelhouse. I was glad to have them off my desk, mostly so I could devote more time to my allegiance to my new dark-suited "partners", and to my constant thoughts of Amanda's growing s u b m i s s i o n to Nickolas.

Charles seemed elated with our show of harmony, maybe even friendship, on Ken's first day. "Well now, you two look like you've been working together for months," he told us as he pushed open my office door and walked in on us. "Something told me I hired the right guy for the job. You're a perfect team. I know it's a bit early, but why don't the two of you go home to your wives? I don't want Kenny's wife to think we're working him too hard on his first day. You've been contributing some long hours here, sport, and after everything you've been through, I owe you a little extra time to recover. We'll meet tomorrow morning so you can let me know how you'll proceed with everything. There's a welcoming party for Kenny and his wife in the afternoon, so put everything aside for that. I've always considered this a family business, and welcoming new wives is part of that."

Charles stopped at my door, turned, and told Ken, "Tell your wife to come in at noon. I'll introduce you to the staff, and you'll both get to chat a bit with them. She's quite lovely, Ken; maybe you're even eager to show her off a little? I wouldn't blame you. The rest of the day will be yours to enjoy; I cater the best food and ***** for these occasions, and our parties last till, well, whenever everyone has had their fill and goes home for the day. Oh, and thank you again, guys, for not letting me down. I usually have a second sense for new hires, and it's gratifying to know I was perfectly on target once again."

Ken dropped his wide smile the minute Charles left us. He preoccupied himself with the stack of documents set aside for his new projects, his attitude suddenly more sober. Something about his demeanor changed; he didn't speak, and seemed to leaf through the paperwork randomly, his mind now elsewhere.

"I know, I know," I said finally. "I was nervous about his office party introduction when Amanda and I went through it too. They're mostly good people, with a few oddballs who won't interfere with our work. I think Amanda actually enjoyed it, which surprised me. He'll say glowing things about you and your wife, parade his ego in front of everyone to take credit for hiring you, and probably get in a few compliments about your wife's looks. He imagines himself a 'ladies' man', so expect him to fawn over Chrissy when she's around him. During our turn, one or two of the wives were a bit catty; I'm sure they were jealous of Amanda's looks. But Amanda handled it well. Charles's presence puts a lid on any real concerns. You'll be fine."

He looked up at me with an expression that I could read so easily it could have been my own. "It's just that, well, when Charles took us to dinner to let me know I got the job, I think he talked to Chrissy more than he talked to me. He had this way of flattering her that was innocent enough on the surface, but the way she was taken in by it bothered me a little. I suppose it's nothing, but I'm not sure why he wants to make her part of this. We're not a package deal, and she's so busy at the gallery I'm not sure she can get free to come tomorrow on such short notice. What happens if she can't? Will he be pissed?"

"All I can tell you is, I'd really try to convince her to be here. Charles compensates us extraordinarily well, but he expects loyalty above all else. He expects sacrifices from us from time to time, and he loves his new-hire parties. Starting out on the right foot is important to him; it massages his ego and perpetuates his image of power. It's what we all learn to live with over time, just a bit of bowing to his ego for the rewards he hands out so lavishly. Still, if I were you, I'd see that she's here, just this once. Just weather through it. Between us, it may get you the downpayment for that new house you talked about. He's been, well, wildly generous when I've pleased him."

"If you say so," he answered. "I'll give Chrissy a call now to let her know. She may want to leave work early to get a new outfit. You know how wives are, always needing to show off a little, especially in front of other women."

I tried to keep from imagining Chrissy in a tiny pencil skirt and stilettos with three buttons of her blouse opened, and hoped that "showing off for other women" would mean a nice new summer dress and modest heels. It would be best if she didn't send Charles signals that he could add her to his office harem. Even so, it sounded like that may be his intention in spite of what she wore, or how she weathered tomorrow's party. Charles had charmed Amanda in exactly the same way. It was tempting to slip Ken a discreet warning, but he had been nervous enough on his first day. And, if Charles found out, I'd pay dearly for exposing his proud expectations. Fuck me; what could I do?"



***

I remembered my own office initiation the following day as everyone gathered in the central open office area. And then there were memories of Charles's celebration for Amanda later on, the one Juliet crashed solely to expose Amanda and me as her t o r t u r e d playthings. I decided to stay as close as possible to Ken and his wife in hopes that I might head off any similar attempt. I may be able to intercept Juliet, but I would have no choice but to let Charles play if he decided to add Ken's wife to his office harem. Ken was a huge asset to me. He was smart, worked like a demon, and was a genuinely nice guy, although there were times when I wished he would be less fearful of Charles. I knew it was a look, an attitude, that Charles would exploit to the fullest.

It was my first sight of her when they arrived that tightened my gut and made me stare: the hair cascading over her shoulders like a blonde waterfall, her slim, pale figure encased within the prim silk blouse and modest, form-fitting skirt that fell to just above her knees. But it was her wide mouth that confessed everything. The same mouth that confessed her surrender to a young Adonis's cock as he pounded her from behind that night, just a few feet from where I too was naked and bound. I recognized her when I remembered her flowing, golden hair whipping the air about her as she moaned like a woman filled by the kind of cock she had never known. She had shown Mr. X who she really was. And Ken had revealed that he may have something to give Charles in addition to his hours of hard work.

Charles was all smiles and compliments as he stood before the couple while the others were busy gulping expensive
l i q u o r and loading their plates with food from the exquisitely prepared buffet. I watched Charles touch Chrissy lightly on her bare upper arm, then slowly lower his fingertips downward, feathering along her wrist before taking her hand. She blushed as Ken shifted nervously back and forth from one foot to the other. Her eyes were locked on Charles's, her unflinching response surely a sign that she'd easily submit to his advances if only to show her gratitude for her dear husband's new job. Had she moved an inch closer to him when he clasped her delicate hand in his groping paw? Ken followed behind them as Charles led Chrissy to his office, and the three of them disappeared inside.

Ten minutes passed, then twenty, then thirty. I watched Charles's office door, trying to imagine what might be happening inside. My thoughts ran to that first day he seduced Amanda. Try as I might, I couldn't remember the exact minute it happened, or how Charles had so easily taken my wife, right there in front of me. Maybe it was the power he held over us, the way he projected the promise of the husband's future success while lacing his compliments with just a hint of expectation that the wife would be open to sacrificing anything to cement their financial future. Charles had once assured me that even the most proper wives had an itch that hadn't been scratched, and that he could always sense their "forbidden" fantasies, massage them, then coax them to the surface. "Women always cave to a man that brings out the whore in them, and I know just how to do that. But you know that too now, don't you, sport? I've never seen a more enthusiastic example than our little Amanda." I knew he was right, but his leering grin went right to my gut.

I watched closely when Charles led them back out through his office door. Charles wore his usual satisfied smirk, while Chrissy walked beside him, her eyes glazed and fixed straight ahead as though focused on some object far in the distance. Ken walked slightly behind them, trying his best to return to Chrissy's side. He stared at Chrissy, running his eyes up and down over the slim lines of her body. There was something unusual about the way he moved; he was bent over slightly as he walked, leaning forward and twisting at the waist uncomfortably. When I got a better look through the crowd, I could see the outline of his erection now and then as his slacks collapsed against him.

It was all too familiar - the shock on Chrissy's face with a hint of a satisfied smile, and Ken's mix of confusion, embarrassment, and concealed arousal. There was no doubt in my mind - Charles had given sweet little Chrissy a sample of cock that put her husband's to shame for the first time in her life. Finally, she lost control and gave up her orgasm while her stunned husband watched. But he didn't merely watch - he felt his dick swell and lengthen as Chrissy took every inch of Charles's cock, moaned, and probably begged for more. But it was Ken's sudden chill as his wife's orgasm exploded before his very eyes that would lead him down the road of s u b m i s s i o n that Charles had planned.

It was hard to feel too sorry for Ken. I had experienced that same chill, shock, and yes, the exhilaration when Charles began his seduction of Amanda, and then later when I watched him ease his thick, pulsing cock into her. I could see instantly that her response was shockingly intense, unleashed with more stunning voraciousness than she had ever shown me during all of our years of "blissful" marriage. There was something strangely erotic about seeing Amanda rejoice in her orgasm - moaning, hissing, crying out with words I had never heard escape her trembling lips, so hungry for more of Charles's relentless cock. It was then I understood. Men like Charles, Alphas, Bulls, whatever names others pinned on them, could merely "take" the women they wanted, even devoted, married women like Amanda, from men like me. Maybe I always knew, and feared, that I wasn't the kind of man she dreamed of in bed. It was always a door I was afraid to open until Charles opened it for me. And now, he had likely opened it for Ken as well.

For the remainder of the afternoon, there was nothing inappropriate about the way Charles behaved in Chrissy's presence. He escorted the couple through the crowd of hungry, tipsy employees, making introductions to one small group after another, keeping Chrissy's glass of Chardonnay filled as Ken looked on quietly beside them. Then, as though Charles had snapped his fingers and made it happen in an instant, I saw Chrissy's eyes widen and her smile change to the briefest of suggestive grins when her glance caught Charles's inviting stare. He whispered something to her, and her grin remained. She turned away from Ken and stared up into the face of the beast that was Charles, nodding as he spoke to her as though she was his for the taking. Ken looked on, terrified, humiliated, and beaten. It was only after he turned slightly toward me that I saw the growing bulge in the front of his pants that he now had completely neglected to hide.

I looked away quickly so I wasn't caught staring, but I saw Amanda join them just as I did. I had hoped she'd be absent this time, and by then assumed Charles would have his sights set only on Chrissy the entire day. My breath froze in my chest when I saw Nickolas with her. He rested his hand on Amanda's lower back as they chatted with Charles, Chrissy, and Ken. I was certain his intention was to present Amanda and him as an intimate couple; at least it was clear to me if to no one else. Amanda stood so close to Nickolas, her shoulder pressing into him as they talked. My stomach lurched when I saw her look up at him with an adoring gaze that practically announced that every inch of her delicious body had been fondled, tasted, and fucked by him, day after day, hour by hour. Had she now taken more cock from him than she had from me during our entire marriage?

I had become used to men at the office ogling Amanda. Or at least I thought I had. But Nickolas's presence brought new angst along with it. Everyone saw my wife on his arm; they were so familiar, so intimate. Everyone would assume he had dressed her; her outfit matched his suit perfectly. The black, elegant dress clung to her svelte body from breasts to just above her hips like a second skin. It bared her shoulders and arms, flaunting the luscious crescents of her breasts atop the plunging neckline. The lower portion fell loosely from her hips to mid-thigh. With each step, the translucent, wispy material moved as though a light breeze might easily expose everything beneath it. Barely any detail of her body beneath the dress was left to anyone's imagination. Together they appeared as a couple far above the class and means of everyone present, including Charles.

All the women's eyes were on Nickolas, even Chrissy's. He was always dressed as though his clothes were custom tailored by some high-end European clothier, worn for the first time and never after that: slacks with razor-sharp pleats and not a wrinkle to be found, the finest materials that fell so naturally along his body, and gleaming white, fitted shirts worn open just enough to display the slabs of muscle across his upper chest. But what women always spotted first was the way his inseam was custom fitted to emphasize the thick rope of flesh that fell along his inner thigh beneath the exquisitely sheer cloth. Nickolas's reputation, and tales of his mythical cock, preceded him, and he loved dispelling any doubts with undeniable evidence to all women, wherever we went. It wasn't long until Chrissy's eyes wandered there too and stayed just a few moments too long. Ken's frown was proof enough that his wife's behavior in public was more salacious than he could ever have imagined, and Charles's ear-to-ear grin told me he was having his usual twisted fun without the slightest concern about whether those around him noticed or not.

I watched them from a distance until Amanda took Chrissy by the hand and led her toward the ladies' restroom. Amanda was bright and upbeat as they chatted, and it seemed to be contagious. From behind, Chrissy could have been Amanda's younger sister as they walked side-by-side down the hallway together. Had I imagined that Chrissy's stride and the sway of her hips had become much like Amanda's?

Nickolas approached me as I watched Amanda and Chrissy walk away. He was a few inches taller than me and I always hated looking up at him when we spoke.

"She's quite something, isn't she?" he asked, grinning his usual grin. "By the way you're staring, I'm guessing you approve of how she's evolved into a completely new woman. Not much left of the 'little girl' you married, is there?"

"There isn't," I said quietly. "But she's always been beautiful to me, especially that day we first met. That 'little girl' was who I fell in love with."

"You're living in the past," he told me. "I never do that. There's no reward in it - not like enjoying the present, and I am enjoying Amanda, just as she is. I can't believe you don't appreciate the changes, even if I was the only one able to imagine her full potential as a woman. I never understood it - what kept you from doing the same a long time ago?"

"Maybe not every husband wants his wife to dress and act like a whore, Nickolas. Maybe I don't want to lose her, especially to someone who sees her as just an interesting toy he can stick his cock in whenever he wants."

Nickolas smiled and shook his head slowly. "You make me sound like a slaver. I can assure you, Amanda doesn't think of me that way. I've dressed her and cared for her as though she's a queen. I've afforded experiences that have enabled her to become more mature, more sophisticated, and, well, more grateful than she'd have been otherwise, especially after I 'stick my cock in her'. These are things you never could have given her, even on your best day. Actually, I'm disappointed you don't appreciate it. I thought you wanted what's best for her."

"Well, Nickolas, I know your giant ego doesn't allow you to see it, but you might consider the difference between my idea of what's best for her and yours. Mine is providing a lifetime of love, happiness, and security, and yours is making her your very own exotic, sex-hungry trophy you can dress, or undress, for those you constantly need to impress. I'm not blind. I know what you do to her, how her head swims when you shower her with gifts, and how her body responds to the kind of cock I could never give her. But in time, she'll know, that she's more like a pet than a wife to you, feeding her, grooming her, training her to do what? Tricks for your friends? Do you think she won't miss being loved, eventually? If you do, you don't know her as well as you think you do."

Nickolas didn't even flinch; his grin just grew wider. "You poor schmuck. Do you really think I want to marry her? Or spend the rest of my life with her? I know a dozen women with more brains, beauty, and sophistication who would easily and gladly fill that role. Amanda's my unicorn, the kind of woman I don't meet every day. I saw potential in her the minute we met; she was the ultimate needy wife whose expectations of a thrilling sex life were never met, and time was running out. Your wife dropped her defenses immediately. Once she had a taste of what I could give her, she wanted more - the clothes, the changes in her body, the extravagant lifestyle, and yes, especially the cock she wished you could have given her. Amanda was easy. You never saw it in her, and I did. Now she's part of a package Charles offered me, a kind of negotiation bonus. And a very, very willing one. You see, the thing is, you can have her back when Charles agrees to my terms. It's just business, and Amanda's merely the cherry on top - a ripe, delicious, juicy one. I haven't ruined your wife; I've saved her. I've helped her evolve. I've made her an object of desire to every man who lays eyes on her. I'm really doing you a favor. You should thank me."

It wasn't just his words that enraged me; it was his entire existence. His wealth, power, looks, and arrogance made me feel small and helpless. He had taken Amanda effortlessly, with no objection from her, as though she had been waiting for him her entire life. In my eyes he was a slaver; she had become a slave to everything he was and I wasn't, most of all his cock.

"So, what am I supposed to do when you do give her back to me?" I argued. "Sometimes she's a woman I don't even know anymore. Our sex life will never be the same. I don't even know if she'll want to come back. That's not 'saving her', it's contaminating her, you arrogant fuck."

"I guess it's a matter of perspective then," he said, now a bit more serious. "And your 'sex life', well, from what Amanda tells me, you enjoy watching other men fuck her more than you ever enjoyed doing it yourself. I'm not sure you can thank me for that though. It happened with plenty of others before me, and honestly, I think it's what you always wanted. I think you're a certain breed of man, one with inadequacies you're well aware of, and a desperate need to see your wife satisfied in spite of it, at any cost. There's no need to deny it - I've seen the videos, all of them. It was just one more incentive Charles put on the table. Still, I like to think I refined things a bit, creating the kind of woman any man would gladly service. And she will need servicing, even after I'm gone. My advice is to enjoy the new Amanda for what she's become, one way or another. You will thank me for it, I'm sure of it."

With that, he turned and made his way through the crowd to meet Amanda as she and Chrissy appeared across the room. After a few words, Chrissy left them to find Ken. Nickolas moved behind Amanda, circled her waist with his arms, and backed her into the shadows of the darkened hallway behind them. He whispered to her, then looked straight at me through a parting in the crowd as he raised both hands up along her body and cupped her breasts. Amanda closed her eyes and turned her head to nuzzle his neck as he freed her breasts and fingered her nipples. He whispered again close to her ear. I could see her open-mouthed gasp and her body tremble. He stared straight at me, grinning, exposing Amanda to whoever might glance into the hallway and see him play with my wife.

It was too much for me. Someone would surely see them. This arrogant prick couldn't care less if Amanda was seen with her tits out, wrapped in his arms, all in front of me and my coworkers. So, I bolted to the safety of my office with my third scotch. I sat behind my desk and gulped it, not able to get the image of Amanda's face consumed with erotic bliss out of my head. And there was Nickolas's amused look, directly at me, while he exposed Amanda's breasts where he knew anyone might notice. I was swimming in waters I could no longer tread, sinking into depths I could never have predicted.

Not long after, Amanda appeared at my door, knocked lightly, then walked to my desk and looked at me with obvious sympathy. "Sorry about that, sweetie," she said. "Sometimes he goes too far. As huge as his ego is, he still has to show everyone that his toys are better than theirs. It's just that we've been spending so much time together, he really does think of me as his. Throwing it in your face here where you work was uncalled for. No, it was just mean."

She had hopped up onto the front of my desk with her back to me and crossed her legs as she talked, looking out over the milling crowd of my coworkers. The dress rose up along her thighs as she sat there, and I wondered if anyone who happened by might easily see beneath it. I shuddered when I remembered that Nickolas never allowed her to wear a bra or panties. She seemed distracted. Was it Nickolas she was searching for, or Chrissy, or even Ken? In any case, it made her apology sound like one of vacant necessity rather than concern.

She swiveled on my desk to face me. Her bare, lean, sculptured legs had always made my dick hard. It was something she was well aware of. Her cat-like stretch as she lay across my desk exposed her cleanly shaved sex just under the raised hem of the dress. Once again, I was reminded that my wife's breathtaking body was something Nickolas had given her, along with a cock she now craved more than any in the past. Could she even remember what mine felt like inside her?

Suddenly, her serious tone changed to a more playful one as she leaned closer, bringing her face inches from mine. At least now she looked like a wife who found a chance to be playfully intimate with her husband.

"Still, I don't think it was entirely all embarrassment you felt, was it, sweetie? I mean, you like men paying attention to me, flirting with me, playing with me, don't you? I think you like my new body, too - even though it was Nickolas's money and persuasion that made the new me. I love what he's done for me - men see me as a completely different woman now. When I'm naked and look in the mirror, I see the woman I always wanted to be, a woman men want to fuck, one who can pick and choose her lovers, one who controls her life, utterly and completely. I can have a wonderful, loving husband, and an incredible sex life of my own, and you not only allow it, you get off on it."

She snaked her hand down the front of my shirt, then lower inside my pants, fingering the bars of my cage.

"It did get a little crowded inside this little thing, didn't it?" she teased. "Watching him play with my tits in public? Knowing what he'll do to me later when we leave together?"

Her finger found the open slit at the end of my cage. She passed a long, pink, manicured fingernail inside it, then moved slowly back and forth along the opening. The feeling was electric as she raked over the swollen head of my dick with just enough pressure to ignite the nerve endings there. Each time her nail would dwell, then dip into the tiny crevice where my precum leaked from me, I'd shiver with the exquisite need to be set free and fuck her.

"You do think of it often, don't you, sweetie? His huge cock plunging into me, making me cum over and over and over until he cums in me? You do picture it in your mind, don't you? How his cock barely fits at first, then stretches your horny wife's pussy like it's never been stretched before? How it fills me, and then I drool and beg him not to stop?"

Her eyes were inches from mine, her body sprawled across my desk with her dress bunched nearly at her waist. But it was her voice that threatened to finish me; it was a new kind of "intoxicating", an earthy, whispered promise of sex, a mix of playfulness and sadistic satisfaction. She closed her hand over my cage, tugging lightly, twisting and flicking it as she teased me.

"You know you can tell me, don't you? That you like it? That you want Nickolas to play with me, even in public - to use me and fuck me and make your wife cum so intensely that my orgasms become my whole world during those few seconds? Admit it - it makes you hard, doesn't it? Tell me - I know it does. You'd cum right now if you could, just hearing me talk about how much I crave submitting to him. Just whisper it to me - 'I get hard when I think about Nickolas fucking you'. Tell me you want him to give me what you can't, sweetie."

I surrendered when she cupped my balls and rolled them between her fingers. Her long nails scraped lightly over the tender skin of my sac, then pressed into my balls here and there as if to let me know I no longer owned them - an open threat that they now belonged to her, Charles, and Nickolas. I remembered what the agents who showed up at my door wanted in exchange for our freedom when all this was over - that I should encourage Amanda to fuck more information out of Nickolas until the FBI had enough to put Charles and him away. The agent's words were still fresh in my mind - "continuing to encourage her is a significant way to escape this as a couple with your ultimate freedom...".

"I do, Amanda!" I whispered, inches from her inviting lips. "I get hard thinking of it - of him putting his cock in you. Of him making you cum.

She moved forward slowly, planting a brief kiss on my lips. The fierceness in her eyes softened to the familiar, loving gaze she'd given me every day before any of this began. Her hand found mine, squeezed it gently, then moved it up along her inner thigh to her open, wet pussy.

"You can make me cum too, sweetie. You can even do it now, here in your office. So easily. I mean, if you want to..."

I extended a finger and traced a trembling line over her firm, slippery clit. She gasped.

"See, just a little more, sweetie. Touch me there again. I'll cum for you. I promise. You'd love to make your wife cum again, wouldn't you?"

So I did. I stroked her clit slowly, lovingly, then faster, circling it over and over with a finger I knew was no real substitute for Nickolas's cock. And in seconds she came on it, her delicious body's sudden little spasms traveling through me as she collapsed against my chest.

Soon after, her loving eyes were on me again. I held her tightly in my arms as she nuzzled me, just as she had Nickolas in the darkened hallway.

"Does it - I mean, was it as good as him this time?" I asked, hesitantly. "I do love watching you cum."

She didn't look up, but still nuzzled my neck and kissed me there.

"You know there are questions you probably shouldn't ask, sweetie. It just spoils it for you. It's different with him. Definitely not love. He 'takes' me, sweetie. He's made me something he imagines he owns - some exotic image of his perfect plaything. I know I'm just a 'thing' to him - well, a body, and a pussy to be blunt. And I know I'm much more than that to you. But I can't resist him. In a way, he does own me, but I know he won't want me forever. He's the fantasy man I've dreamed about since I was a teenager. I suppose I've always fantasized about a man who seduces me and fucks me like Nickolas does. But I don't love him. Besides, it's my job now. Charles expects me to deliver everything I can about him. And we both want that, right, sweetie?"

At least I knew that she still considered fucking Nickolas part of her job, and that I wouldn't have to further "encourage" her to enjoy his cock. If only I could tell her, warn her, that Nickolas and Charles weren't the people she thought she knew. But keeping her in the dark, at least a little while longer, was our eventual way out of the foreboding consequences that would soon be clear to everyone. So, I answered her the only way I could.

"I know you love the sex with him, Amanda, as well as working for Charles. You should enjoy all of it, as long as it lasts. Nickolas makes you happy in bed; I wouldn't take that away from you even if I could. I only wish I could do the same, or at least come close to it. But as long as you still love me and come back to me, I'm glad you've found your fantasy. So, enjoy yourself, but be careful too. Remember who your boss is, and who your husband is. Nickolas is just a cock, a candy-store fantasy. Who knows what he might do if he finds you're spying for Charles?"

She brought her eyes close to mine again suddenly. The loving look returned in a way I had never known before. "I do love you, sweetie. I can't imagine any other husband being so understanding. And don't worry so much. Nickolas is harmless; he's putty in my hands. And I know he won't want to be with me forever. Can you imagine? He's jealous of every man who talks to me. He doesn't share any of his prized possessions, including me. I wouldn't want that. You don't mind sharing at all, and that makes me so wet."

Just then Nickolas appeared at my door with a scowl on his face. When Amanda sat up, faced him, and opened her legs, he grinned. "Teasing poor hubby again, Mandy?" he asked. "Is my girl torturing him a bit with her hungry body and dirty little mind? You're such a bad girl! How do you stand it, sport? Your tiny prick behind bars while this gorgeous piece of ass brags about how she loves fucking me? Do you even think of her as your wife anymore? You must really believe she's mine now. You are, aren't you Mandy? My pretty little slut, and no one else's?"

She hopped off my desk and went to him, placing her hands on his chest with her mouth open to receive his kiss. "You know I am, Nickolas," she said breathlessly. "Any time, any way you want me. He knows that. But I think he likes a little teasing now and then. Still, I'm glad you're here. Take me home and fuck me?"

"I was just about to do that, Mandy. Why don't you do your sexiest little walk out through the office where everyone can stare at my girl's perfect ass, and I'll meet you in the car. I'll only be a minute, and I'm sure the men here would love another look at you. Pull your top down a little so they get a good look at the tits I bought you. Show them off - you know how I like getting my money's worth."

Amanda glanced back at me with a split second of apology, tugged at the already dangerously revealing bodice of her dress, turned on her stilettos, and sauntered through the few remaining groups of d r u n k e n coworkers. Jesus - her ass in that dress - she was a ravishing display of flagrant, inexhaustible sexual appetites; not one man failed to stop and stare at her exit.

After Amanda was out of sight, Nickolas closed my office door and took a seat across from me. Merely seeing him so relaxed and confident there made the office seem more his than mine, and it make my gut churn.

"She is a tasty little thing when she turns it on, isn't she?" he began. "But, just so we're both on the same page, I wouldn't bet on her ever being happy as your sweet little 'wifey' again. Yes, I know, she's told me how worried you are that I'll steal her away from you. We've been over that, remember? Wake up, man. She's a hot new toy that makes my dick hard, a clueless little 'Barbie' with a great body and a tight pussy that Charles offered me to sweeten our deal. That's all she is. Tits. Mouth. Pussy.

"But all that doesn't mean she'll fall right back into your arms again when this is over. Oh, it's not just her new look, although it will get her lots of great cock. It's more than that; much more. From what Charles tells me, so many men, men much better than you, have wined and dined and fucked her. And from what Amanda tells me, you always left her needing more, especially in the bedroom - more time, more imagination, and, oh yes, how did she put it? A cock that made her feel more like a 'real woman'? And yet, you never knew, never paid attention, always came first, and let her lie there in heat waiting for the dream lover she never had.

"And even now, you look surprised that I know more about Mandy's needy pussy than you do. She becomes quite open in the midst of cumming on my cock. Of course, I encourage her to do just that, to tell me how I more than compensate for your failings. She bucks and moans while she tells me how I fill her, and hates that you never did. She whispers in my ear, completely limp and breathless after her third orgasm, that I'm the 'man' you never were in bed. She'll suck me at the most surprising times, without me asking. And even then, she turns her discomfort into compliments - how trying to stretch her mouth around the head of my cock makes me more 'manly' to her, and how swallowing buckets of my cum is a welcome sign of my masculine potency. I'm afraid your impotence, your little dribbles of 'slow swimmers', were more of an issue to her than she let on. I suppose those feeble squirts of your weak sperm are now a fading memory to her, one her gobbling of my 'champion swimmers' seems to have nearly erased."

Nickolas rose to his feet and watched me process his little speech. I didn't have the words to respond. I couldn't even look at him. Finally, I just told him to leave.

"The sooner you give her up, the better," he said as he looked down at me. "She's not the woman she was, not your woman at all. I can't take all the credit for who she's become, but I like to think I've shown her her true potential. And, I've provided the means for her to achieve a physical presence that gives her confidence; it reminds her of her power to take what she needs every time I strip her and have her look in the mirror. I think you realize all of this - you just haven't allowed yourself to accept it."

When I looked up from my desk, he smiled at me, certain he had convinced me to abandon her. As he opened my door to leave, I stopped him.

"You think you know her? Just because she let you fuck her for a while? You only know the body you created, not who Amanda really is. I'll never give her up, to anyone, especially to you. I know she still loves me. I can see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice when she tells me she does. You actually think I would take advice from you, an opportunist who uses women, ruins them, then tosses them on his own private scrap heap? You don't know Amanda at all. Not even a little."

His smile didn't fade a bit - in fact, he chuckled and rolled his eyes as he opened my office door to leave. "You still don't get it. All that talk of 'love', those promises that she might find a way to stay with you if only you accept your 'limitations' and allow her to find 'ways' to live with them? She's letting you down the easiest way she can. Why would she stay when she can get everything she needs from other men? Remember that, sport. Run those words over and over in your head for a while, until it's clear to you. Amanda is gone. She was probably never really yours in the first place."

I simply left the building and drove home, haunted by h u m i l i a t i o n, anger, and defeat. Nickolas knew everything, saw everything. I imagined him grinning as he masturbated to videos of Charles, Eric, and Vicente filling Amanda with cock, often with me there watching, hard, and dripping with my own precum. Charles could make them public any time he wanted; now he had exposed us to the world instead of merely a few of his paying customers.

The gut-wrenching thing was, I knew Nickolas had watched Amanda's angelic face contort and moan when she gave up everything to them, wrapped her perfect legs around their backs, and welcomed their repeated spew inside her. And I knew Amanda had been a pawn in Charles's contract negotiations with the Waltzes, essentially a piece of meat offered as a concession to Nickolas for any slight advantage Charles could seek out and win.

Yet, during the drive home, I recalled Amanda's first breathtaking s u b m i s s i o n to Charles, and after that her unending thirst for sex with him and the others. All those thoughts, all those images of Amanda's shattering orgasms with those men, had my dick throbbing against the cage I was now f o r c e d to wear. How could that be after the day I suffered? I hated Nickolas. I dreaded losing Amanda. I was devastated that I'd never satisfy her as those other men had; but in some unfathomable way, I was excited by thoughts of her perfect body thrashing with an unbridled lust she never showed with me. It was my wife with all inhibition gone, hungrily enjoying sex, satiated by men blessed with the bodies, skill, and genitals I could never hope to equal. She fucked like a raging a n i m a l, her delicious body surrendering to them as though her ultimate, crushing orgasm was the only thing in her world that mattered.

How had I let it come to this? Charles had been a master at promising us the world, then providing his version of it. He had seen through us from the start, and we took what he offered, all of it. In exchange, Amanda became his mistress, then his whore. I became the office lackey and willing cuckold, just as his uncanny senses predicted the first time we shook hands. It was almost as if we had volunteered to play whatever parts he had in store for us, ignoring our fate that hung precariously on the horizon. Now I would have to save our marriage and save us from going to prison. But first, if everything Nickolas wanted me to believe was true, I'd have to save Amanda from herself.

Absolutely amazing. Thank You!
Mike

I agree absolutely, thanks so much
.
Submissive Cuckold - lives for many years in a female-led marriage with a cuckold lifestyle.

Absolutely wonderful, as always! Really inspired work, thank you Don ❤️🙏🏼 x

Thanks for sticking with it, guys. I'm rounding the bend to a finish, but a few more chapters to go. Chapter 26 is written and ready for editing.

Don

I can't wait to read it, I'm loving Amanda more and more ❤️😈 x

Chapter 26


Ken and I spent the next week meeting with Charles, reviewing project after project we had completed or planned to divide between us. Of course, he was pleased, but there was a new sense of satisfaction in the way he looked at us. I could see his mind working as he listened, and it wasn't about our attempts to update him on his obsessive security measures. It was something in his eyes as he studied Ken and me, and he'd often grin suddenly as though his mind was elsewhere. Whether Ken recognized it or not, I knew visions of our wives, naked and willing, were likely occupying him as he glanced back and forth at us.

After a particularly long day spent upgrading every office workstation and taking flak from employees who now had to navigate Charles's new changes, I suggested we get a beer on the way home. I took Ken to my favorite watering hole, a cozy, quiet bar below street level a few blocks away. Amanda would meet me there after work when I was first hired. She loved listening to the guy at the piano, and after we became regulars, her requests for him to repeat the songs she liked best made him smile every time. She'd linger a bit after dropping a tip in his jar, and afterward, I'd tease her about getting "too friendly" with him. She'd tease me right back, whispering close to my ear, "Are you jealous of my new boyfriend?" Her little giggle always put some heft in my dick, although I couldn't imagine her being unfaithful to me then. Still, I remembered my reaction to her apparent attraction to an older man whose music seemed to coax a kind of sensual dreaminess from her. I think I was even fully erect a few times when she lingered and spoke to him; I imagined she had been wet and vulnerable, seduced by the notes he wove about her, making her his for those few minutes. She had planted my fantasy there long ago, unaware that it had taken roots and flourished. Unaware until now.

Ken was quiet for a while, but I could tell there was something on his mind - something he struggled to talk about. Finally, after two beers, he found the courage to ask.

"That guy your wife was with at the party; he was, um, more than just a friend, wasn't he? Wasn't it embarrassing for you? I mean, she didn't seem to care that everyone saw them together like that. You did see them, right? I couldn't stop watching them."

I wasn't sure Ken was ready for the truth. But I was sure he had been there when Charles had his way with Chrissy during the party. And I was sure Ken had been hard, probably during, and definitely after. Maybe a sympathetic ear would make it easier for him. Hell, he was going to have to live with it as long as he worked for Charles. Still, would making it easier for Ken to accept be the right thing to do?

"I'll start by telling you, I saw you and Chrissy after Charles took you both to his office. What happened there happened to Amanda and me too the night Charles met her. He has this, this power over people, women especially. Women, wives, fall prey to him like magic. You should know you're not the only one that finds it at least a little, well, taboo and exciting. To be honest, I found his seduction of Amanda arousing. And, after the financial rewards it brought us, Amanda and I both wanted to please him. He knows that, Ken. It's how he operates. He dangles unimaginable rewards in front of us, then requires that we look the other way when he takes certain 'liberties' with our wives - liberties he senses we'll tolerate at first, then after that, it's our wives' bodies he's sure we'll surrender completely to him. I think you already know what I mean. You watched Charles and Chrissy, in his office, didn't you?"

Ken looked up from his beer and stared at me. "So, Amanda, and Charles? They're having sex? And the guy she was with at the party? Him too? And you let her?"

"I more than 'let her', Ken. There's something about it that I find exciting, erotic. Amanda loves it, and loves me for it. I know you're surprised, but I think you understand. I know you were hard after Charles made you watch. The thing is, do you want the rewards Charles showers on us badly enough to give in to it? And does Chrissy?"

After a long minute of silence, he stared at his beer and began. "That house we wanted? The one we didn't have the downpayment for? It's ours now. Charles bought it for us. He said it was a hiring bonus, but now I know the truth. Chrissy paid for it, with her body. And now I think she might have to keep paying."

"The things you watched in his office that day - he's generous, but I doubt he'd buy you a house just for that. That was just a test. I assume Chrissy 'cooperated', and you didn't object? If so, you both passed."

Ken took a long gulp and finished his beer just as our waitress brought two more. He finished half of the second one before he explained.

"It wasn't the only time, in his office," he said quietly. "Charles took us out to dinner to celebrate later that night. Chrissy was infatuated with him. I couldn't understand it. I mean, she flirted with him there in the restaurant, in public. It was embarrassing. She loves champagne, and when she told Charles, he ordered bottle after bottle. We were slightly tipsy by the time Charles dropped us at our apartment. I was shocked when Chrissy invited him in. He accepted, and we all talked for a while. I'm not sure how it happened, but I remember Charles telling Chrissy to undress, right there in our living room. She just stood there in the middle of the room like I wasn't there and did whatever he asked."

He stopped to take another swig of his beer, then set the bottle down and stared at it.

"He told her how to undress for him - her blouse, then her skirt, and, well, then everything else. She didn't even hesitate; she just stripped there for him, as though she wanted to do it. I was glued to my chair. I couldn't move. I just watched her get naked for him - I still don't know why I didn't stop her."

I gave him time to consider whether he wanted to go on. It couldn't have been easy for him. But I knew there was something in the way the words poured out of him that told me he needed to tell someone who might understand. Someone with a wife who fucked other men. Someone who found it arousing.

"He led her to our bedroom, and they had sex. I don't know why I didn't object, or intervene. I could hear them from where I sat. He asked her if she liked his cock, and I heard her tell him she did. God, I remembered how big it was when he had Chrissy masturbate him there in his office the day of the party. But this was our bedroom, our bed, and he was grunting and panting, and Chrissy was moaning and begging him not to stop. I couldn't help it - I went to the door and watched my wife's legs wrapped around his back. I could see his cock buried in her. And - fuck me - I had an erection. The more Chrissy begged him, the more I felt my knees shake. I had to hold onto the door frame to keep from falling."

He was sweating, and his hands shook as he tried to get the words out. He'd glance here and there while he talked to make sure no one was near enough to hear. When he finally looked up at me with the same confusion and shame I knew all too well, I nodded, hopeful I might show him I understood.

"You aren't alone in this," I assured him. "I know how you're feeling - ashamed, wounded, angry, and yes, a little excited by it. You can't blame yourself. Charles has a way of getting what he wants from everyone. Amanda and I wanted to please him when he hired me, and we went to extraordinary lengths to do that. Before I knew it, that meant giving him Amanda when he wanted her. And, she found she was more than happy to do it. After that, it was a sacrifice we both agreed to make. Watching her fuck Charles, and after that, other men as well, was mesmerizing. It made her happy, and it satisfied her secret fantasies. So, I've learned to accept it, even like it mostly. My only regret is that I'll never have a cock like his. And I'm pretty sure Amanda shares that same regret. But we've learned to live with that too."

"But, man," he whispered, leaning closer. "I saw him cum in her. I heard her beg for it. And, I, almost came myself when I heard Chrissy's final little cries. She's my wife - how could I do that? She's never made sounds like that with me. Never. And when we talked the next day, she said she couldn't promise she wouldn't want to do it again. Oh God - it was his cock, the size of it, that I can't get out of my head. When I asked her if he was better than me in bed, she just shrugged her shoulders and told me," Well, he was definitely bigger." It was like a slap in my face, and she didn't even seem to care. Fuck - what have we done?"

How could I tell him it wasn't just Chrissy's response to Charles's seduction? How could I let him know that he, like me, sent Charles the same signals, the body language, the subliminal passiveness that Charles sought in a husband every time he hired him, then fucked his wife?

"Look, Ken. You can make a decision now if you want," I explained. "But I'm warning you, don't wait. You can stay here, enjoy the wealth and your new house, be a hero to Chrissy by providing her a life she's only dreamed of, or you can run now before Charles really does own you both.

"I haven't told anyone this before; my reaction to seeing Charles, and a few of his clients like the guy you saw at the party, fuck Amanda was shocking at first, but it inflamed a longtime fantasy of mine. It excited me more and more as time passed. And, little did I know back then that Amanda secretly harbored this fantasy of 'submitting' sexually to much more powerful, aggressive men. Charles somehow seemed to know all this from the start. It's what he does, some kind of kinky telepathy, I guess. The deeper Charles gets his hooks into Chrissy, the harder it will be for her to walk away. She's already told you she may want more. I think it's time to let her know what a married couple's future will be with Charles. Because sacrifices like this are something he demands; they'll become more extreme, and they'll never end."

I watched Ken's face grow pale as I offered my confession. When I finished, he shrank into his chair and sighed.

"But how does he know? Those fantasies you talk about - there were a few times when I had them too. Guys flirt with Chrissy all the time. I know it doesn't mean anything, but the idea that they're attracted to her excites me a little. I tell myself it's just pride, that I'm lucky to have a wife that men admire. If I say anything, she teases me about it, and that excites me even more. Neither of us has ever taken it seriously though - at least I didn't. But now I wonder. Was I ever enough for Chrissy? Charles does have this commanding way about him. God, when I think about him fucking Chrissy with that - Christ, he's huge down there. If that's what Chrissy wants, I can't hope to compete with that. What you're telling me is, either I accept she'll want more of that, or I walk away from my dream job and try to explain to Chrissy why we can't accept the house she loves. Fuck - what if she wants me to stay? What if she's willing to make these 'sacrifices' you talked about? I could lose her."

"Those are questions I've asked myself every day here, Ken. In our case, we've found a way to cope with all of it. We make those sacrifices and take Charles's rewards. Amanda still loves me, in her way, but she prefers sex with other men now. We're in too deep to do anything else. He really does own us, Ken. And we pretend it's okay."

"So, if it's not too personal, do you and Amanda have sex at all anymore?"

And, here's the question I knew would be coming. Telling him about my cage was out of the question, but I owed him a mostly honest answer.

"We don't, Ken, at least not the kind of sex I'm sure you mean. Her fantasy men more than 'satisfy' her now - men like Charles and Nickolas. Charles keeps her busy working for him, and Nickolas keeps her busy in his bed. We're still husband and wife, and we still love each other, but I'm not the kind of man she wants in the bedroom now, not after other men have brought her secret fantasies to life. I know now that she never thought of me that way, a man who just 'takes' her, and fucks her. I just don't do that for her. And there's the matter of size. I'm not sure Amanda knew that was an issue until Charles 'showed' her. So, I fantasize and watch, and Amanda enjoys her fantasy men. We're in this up to our necks. It's all about sacrifice, remember?"

We finished our beers in silence, but I believed I had given Ken enough of a warning. If he couldn't see his way out after that, there was little more I could do. But he still had to convince Chrissy. I feared Charles had sensed she was prone to the same addiction Amanda was; who knew what perverse fantasies lie hidden beneath that long, flowing, blonde hair? Amanda had taken Chrissy under her wing at the welcoming party as though it was part of her job. I cringed when I wondered whether Amanda had become part of Charles's plan to own them. And then there was Nickolas - she might do anything he asked of her, just to keep his cock in her.


***

I abandoned my search through the hidden warrens of Charles's network. Knowing the Feds would be watching my efforts was reason enough; I'd have to play innocent going forward to keep Amanda and me from paying the same price as Charles and his cohorts. Charles left Ken and me to our jobs; we rarely saw him at the office most days. Ken and Chrissy settled into their new home, and Ken never mentioned our little after-hours talk - until a month later.

"I, uh, told Charles this might not be the best fit for me," he said quietly one afternoon while we reviewed our scheduled meeting updates for Charles. "He was disappointed, but took it better than I thought he would. When he asked why, I admitted it had been wrong for Chrissy to, well, give herself to him like that. That's when he told me he knew Chrissy didn't feel the same way, that she loved our new 'arrangement'. I didn't know if she had actually told him that or not - I didn't know what to say. Finally, he told me to think about it for a few days, and he'd accept whatever decision Chrissy and I decided to make. So, I had pretty much decided to get out. Chrissy agreed, but she wasn't happy about it. In fact, she's been pouting ever since."

"I'm sure it's hard for her to give up her dream house," I told him. "I'm guessing he wanted it back, right? Or at least to be reimbursed for what he spent."

"I'm not sure it's that," he went on. "He's been coming around a lot, to our house, at night. He brings us gifts - flowers and jewelry for Chrissy, a case of expensive scotch for me; it's become a kind of weekly routine. He shows up without any notice. We never know when."

He glanced out the office window, pulled his chair closer, and sat next to me. His eyes were b l o o d s h o t and weary, as though he hadn't slept in days.

"He's been having sex with her. He tells her to do things, and she just does whatever he says. She doesn't seem to care that I'm there listening, watching. It's always in our bed where we have to s l e e p after he leaves. The mess he leaves in our bed - it's disgusting. I'm up half the night cleaning up after him while Chrissy's in the shower. And I - I - can't help myself; I watch them. I stand at the door and watch them fuck. It's like I'm paralyzed there, staring, watching Chrissy's body thrust and shudder in ways she's never been with me. And it's not just the sounds she makes, the little cries and moans; it's her endless begging, her pleading with him to fuck her deeper and harder. The last few times, it was just too much. I - oh God, should I even be telling you this? I masturbated while I watched. I came in the doorway, all over the floor while he pounded my wife's beautiful body with that, that, monster cock of his. I must be sick; some kind of mental illness brought on by the stress. Jesus - what's wrong with me? Doing that while my wife begs for his cock?"

He began to weep there in front of me. Amanda and I had been practically willing subjects for Charles's kinky obsessions, but Ken was clearly not me, and that Charles would lead them down a path that he knew would destroy them made me hate him more than ever.

"You have to tell her how you feel about all this, Ken," I said. "All the 'stuff', the money, the house, the gifts - none of that is worth losing her. Tell her everything. Tell her how many wives Charles has corrupted, how many marriages he's ruined, even how he's come to own Amanda and me so completely we couldn't escape now even if we tried. Because I promise you, he'll take more of her. Amanda's fucking his clients, Ken. She's using sex to broker better deals for Charles, because that's her job now. And it's part of my job to allow it. She has sex with rich, powerful men. And she loves it. Is that what you want? Because Chrissy will be the perfect plaything for many of Charles's shady, well-endowed 'friends'."

Ken looked up at me and stared. The disbelief on his face was proof enough that I had given him a wake-up call.

"It - it might be too late," he said, as if in a frightened trance. "You should see how she is with him. The way she is in bed with him. She complains, like it's some kind of chore when I want sex; she's never been like that before. Even when she lets me make love to her, she's so distant, like her mind's elsewhere. She won't even talk about the sex she has with him; she just says she's doing it for our future, and that I should get over my jealousy and be grateful for the opportunity Charles has given us."

Ken might have been right - whatever Charles has, it worked immediately and deeply. In a way, it made me wonder why we didn't run the first time he seduced Amanda. But then I remembered seeing the girth of his cock as it entered Amanda that first time, how her face changed as he eased the monstrous thing into her; I could feel my dick swell inside my cage as the memory returned.

"So, why did you stay?" Ken asked. "How could you just hand Amanda over to him to use as some kind of sex toy? And then when he gives her to other men, for his business?"

"We stayed because we liked it, Ken. There's no other way to put it. Sex with men like that was Amanda's fantasy long before I knew her, and I've had a secret fantasy of watching her be more, I don't know, 'wild' in bed? Maybe more of the slut I doubted she'd ever be with me? Now, we live with it. Amanda fucks him, and anyone he needs her to 'play' with. It's become her job, her duty to Charles, and honestly, she loves the kind of sex they give her - the kind I can't. I'd hate to lose you, but there are things about to happen here that will make it much more complicated for you. My advice is, just go. Take Chrissy and run as fast and far as you can. Unless you want to be us in a very short time."

Ken looked at the door to my office, stood, and walked to it seconds after I finished. The fear I saw on his face had now become determination.

"I need to talk to Chrissy. Now. Cover for me this afternoon? Charles isn't in, is he?"

"Go," I told him. "Make her understand what your future will be like here. And, just hope she finds that future as uncomfortable as you do."


***

Ken was quiet during the days that followed. He didn't mention Chrissy at all, and I worried that she found their future with Charles much more palatable than Ken had hoped. I didn't ask; I had done my part. If they could flee before the FBI raided our offices, so much the better for them.

A week later, my doorbell woke me at 7:00 AM on a Saturday morning. I loved s l e e p i n g in on weekends, and when I looked at the time, I feared my new 'partners' wanted another sit-down with me. There wasn't time to dress, so I went to the door in my boxers and an old T-shirt. I opened it to find Amanda there, smiling at me as though her day was going much better than mine. I glanced over her shoulder and saw a large, black car at the curb.

"Oh, sweetie - I guess I woke you. But I made Charles stop for a minute before we leave."

It was a hot, muggy morning, and the rising sun created a golden halo around her tanned body and newly styled, glistening hair. I lowered my eyes to the fresh, white crop top where the sunlight revealed the outline of her torso beneath it. The elastic that bared her shoulders barely kept the lacey material in place as it fell loosely over her breasts, teasing me with glimpses of the firm, round curves under the translucent fabric.

"Charles is taking me with him to Spain!" she gushed. "I'll be his assistant for a few weeks while we're there. We're on our way to the airport now. It's the first time I'll get to travel in Charles's private jet. Isn't it exciting!"

"So, isn't that where Vicente lives?" I asked, suspecting the worst.

She looked up at me with her pouty face for a second, then glanced back at the car.

"You know how much I like him, sweetie. I mean, yes, the sex is wonderful, but I really like him too. But as a friend, sweetie, not anything more. Besides, it's mostly business. His contract is up for renegotiation, and Charles knows I can make a difference. I can't believe I'm going again - it's so beautiful! The food, the nightlife - I just love it there! It's my first big chance to be more to Charles than, well, you know. Aren't you happy for me?"

Fuck me. Amanda would spend weeks with this guy I'd come to hate - a guy who will make her his very willing girlfriend again while she's there. He'll wine and dine her, show her off to all his friends again, and she'll have that monstrous cock inside her constantly. He was the only man I feared would take Amanda from me, in spite of all the men around me who were fucking her. This was Charles's idea. It was just another way to keep me in line, to assert his power over us. He enjoyed this, further cementing his relationship with Amanda while rubbing my nose in it. I suspected his plan was to put more distance between my wife and me in every way so he could further mold her into a company asset whose loyalty would be all-consuming. Then, suddenly, it occurred to me that Charles may have learned of the Fed's interest in him and was fleeing the country for good, with my wife. That's when panic set in.

"I don't think you should go, Amanda," I warned. "There are things you don't about Charles and Vicente; things that could put you in danger. It's just, not a good time for this."

She sighed, then scowled at me. "You don't want me to be with Vicente, do you? You always did worry that I'd leave you for him. I can't believe you'd make me miss this opportunity to prove myself to Charles, just because you're jealous - of Vicente's looks, his money, and yes, his cock. I've tried to convince you, time and time again, that I wasn't even tempted to stay with him, that I never loved him. Well, I'm going, no matter what you think. And I'm going to fuck him, every chance I get. And Charles and I will get him to sign that new contract. And then I'll come home to you again, and you can tell me how sorry you are that you tried to stop me."

"Please, Amanda - it's not what you think," I pleaded. "It's not Vicente I'm worried about. It's not the idea of you fucking him that's the reason. It's - something else. Please don't go."

Just then I heard two short bursts of the car horn. Amanda turned and waved. "I have to go - Charles and I have appointments to keep once we're there. Please don't worry, sweetie. Vicente isn't 'husband' material. You won't lose me to him. It's business."

"And sex," I added. "I know you're probably thinking about his cock right now while we're talking. If I could let you have that here without you leaving, I would. I know how you love it. I wouldn't interfere. But I can't. And I can't stop you from going. I just hope I'm wrong about my reasons."

She stretched up on tiptoe, put her arms around me, and gave me a peck on the lips. "I love you, silly. What other husband would let me be me the way you do?" And then she moved closer, whispering in my ear. "You let the men I choose have my pussy, sweetie. And you still love me, especially when you watch them. I could never hope to find someone like you again. We were made for each other. I'd never give you up for someone like Vicente when I can have you both."

I watched her stroll to the car, open the door and slide her perfect legs inside. I longed to put my hands on her round little ass. The tiny, stretch shorts hid very little of the firm flesh beneath them, and the way her slim, sculptured legs carried her away from me made me want to climb between them, escape my tiny cage, and sink my aching dick into her once again. The car pulled away, and I went back to bed and masturbated to thoughts of her riding Vicente until she came, screaming his name. I was sure I was losing my mind.


***

The days that followed were agonizing. In spite of Amanda's promises, I was obsessed with thoughts of her leaving me for Vicente. It didn't help that every night I'd retrieve the box that contained the life-size replica of his formidable cock from her bedside where it had remained on display since it arrived. Amanda had made the excuse that seeing its familiar presence there should make me accustomed to its shocking girth and length.

"It's just the first sight of it that makes it seem so big," she had explained when it arrived. "Then, after I was with him for a while, it became what a man's penis should be, as though lots of men had one just like it. I became used to the weight of it in my hands, and how it would grow instantly to the most beautiful erect penis I had ever seen. It was always there for me, always ready, any time I wanted it. I loved that."

In spite of her claims, back then I found it a nightly reminder of what had bonded her to Vicente, a symbol of the power he had used to simply pluck Amanda from my world and make her his adoring plaything. Strangely, now its presence had become a bizarre obsession to me. I'd remove it from its mahogany box some nights and simply hold it, knowing the real thing would be inside Amanda every day she was gone. Her words from when it first arrived haunted me:

"It's beautiful, isn't it? He had it made from a mold of his cock while he was hard for me. It's a perfect copy. Go on, take it out and see."

I'd think back to the days when her petite body was naked and available to me in our bed, and wonder how Vicente's massive pillar of meat had ever fit inside her flat little belly. But it had, and I knew she couldn't wait to return to him for more of it.

Why did I do it, night after night? Why t o r t u r e myself, knowing his cock may be the very thing that takes Amanda from me? But I couldn't take my eyes off it, imagining him as her boyfriend, her lover, and then what? Her husband? And yet, as worry and jealousy consumed me, I'd feel the cage close in around my engorged dick, the inescapable result of imagining Amanda's body thrashing with relentless orgasms Vicente's prize cock must be giving her.

After Amanda had gone, the first night I opened the box I noticed the small, heart-shaped, empty cavity in the velvet lining. In an instant, I remembered seeing the thin, gold chain and golden heart attached to it around Amanda's neck when she showed up at my door that morning. The heart must have been turned so Vicente's inscription, "A & V", was hidden underneath against her chest. Had she done it on propose to hide it from me? Or did wearing his inscription against her heart fuel her anticipation of becoming "his" once again?

The bulk of the object - Amanda had talked about the "weight" of the real one in her hands - fascinated me. Was Amanda "weighing" it in her hands at that very same moment? Would her lips open over the tip of it, her tongue probing and circling the bulbous head? How determined would she be to take its unyielding circumference into her hungry mouth, then work her lips over it, desperate to bring him nearly to the point of no return, and then beg him to fill her pussy? As I held it, the phallus became a perverse connection to Amanda. I imagined it opening her, pistoning in and out of her, and then her furious cries and loud moans. I could almost feel the thing convulse and surge as though he was cumming in her. Amanda's beautiful face would appear to me, her eyes fluttering, her cheeks red with passion, and finally her open-mouthed, luxurious cum as she repeated his name. And, God help me, it made the cage close in around my dick every time.


***

At my request, Charles had assigned Ken his own office before he left. I wanted enough private time to obsess over Amanda and her old 'boyfriend', and I wanted to give Ken private time as well while he tried to reason with Chrissy. It wasn't difficult to justify to Charles; Ken's share of projects now equaled my own. He needed the space, as well as the uninterrupted surroundings.

Chrissy stepped out of the elevator a week later, walked by my open door, and headed for Ken's office. When she didn't find him there, she returned, knocked lightly on my open door, smiled, and stepped inside.

"Oh - Chrissy - how are you?" I asked. She took another step toward me, glancing at Amanda's picture on my desk.

"Oh, busy," she told me. Did I see her blush a little? "But a good 'busy'," she went on. "The house is bigger than one we had planned on buying, and I'm ordering paint, window treatments, you know, all that stuff. I just love it; I'm so proud of Ken. I guess I shouldn't feel guilty about it, but now that we have the money, I've been shopping for some new outfits. You like?"

She looked incredible in the baby-blue, baggy crop top and black yoga pants. She spread her arms and turned slowly to model them for me. "I was on my way home from the gym and thought I'd stop in to surprise Ken. Do you know where he is? He's not in his office."

I tried not to stare. 'Fit Body Factory' was printed across the crop top, just above the swell of her pert young breasts. Was she really not wearing a bra?

"I think he's on a conference call upstairs," I offered. "It should be over soon if you want to wait in our lounge; his office is still pretty disorganized, so you may not even find a place to sit in there. We've been pretty busy - I guess he's told you."

"I guess I could wait a little while," she answered. I could see the wheels turning in her head. "Um, is Charles in? I just wanted to thank him again for everything. He's been so generous."

"I'm afraid he's gone for two or three weeks, Chrissy - to Spain, on business. But I'm sure he knows how grateful you are. No need to tell him again; you'll only feed that ego of his, and that's our job."

I noticed her smile fade a little just before Ken came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders.

"Well, this is a nice surprise, sweetheart," he said, grinning as she flinched. "Let me show you my new office - it's a mess right now, but wait until I have you decorate it with some of that art you spend so much time around every day."

Ken walked her to his office and they went inside. They talked for a while, and when I passed by on my way to the men's room, Chrissy was leaning over his desk with her back to the door, her round little ass on mouthwatering display. On my way back, Ken's door was closed, but as I passed by, I could hear Chrissy raise her voice.

"Well, maybe if you paid more attention to my body, other men wouldn't be tempted. I like the compliments for a change - and everything that comes with them. Charles has been good to us. You know how good. Don't pretend you don't like it. And you still want to give it all up just because you're a little jealous? Well, maybe it's about time - you've never been jealous about me before, have you? I have news for you, Ken - I'm not the innocent little princess you imagine me to be. And if it takes a man like Charles to get you to see that, then maybe you should thank him for opening your eyes."

It was no surprise that Chrissy hadn't taken Ken's warnings to heart. Charles did that to women. I had once accused Nickolas of being a slaver, but Charles was born with the gift no man could hope to equal. Amanda was taken just as quickly, and it made me wonder what would have happened had I objected the same way. The only difference between Ken and me was that I liked it a lot more than he did. I handed Charles Amanda, and now we were both drowning under a shower of Charles's excessive rewards.

I returned to my office to find Juliet sitting in my chair, smiling up at me. "What do you want, Juliet?" I asked with as much venom as I could summon.

"Such a tone, little man. Having a bad day? Or maybe you're upset that Charles has delivered your slutty little wife to her old boyfriend again. I hear they were quite a couple. A little jealous, are we? Or, maybe just frustrated that you can't jerk off with that tiny little cage attached to your dick?"

"Get out, Juliet," I ordered, fuming. "I don't have time for your s h i t today."

She just grinned at me, sat back in my chair, and crossed her legs.

"I can never quite figure out what makes men like you tick. Living with knowing your wife is cumming on another man's cock - a very sizeable cock, I must say - fills you with this possessive torment, and yet, at the same time, deep down where your masculine insecurities live, you get off seeing your once wholesome wife squealing like a little piglet when other men fuck her. What was it? Some emotional trauma as a c h i l d? Or maybe you just got lucky years ago when she married you. Maybe you knew other men didn't see you as equals, that you didn't deserve a woman that hot; then when they swooped in to fuck her, you had no other choice than to accept it. I suppose the other choice would have been to leave her, but you never had the balls to do that either, did you?"

There was something about Juliet that always got under my skin. I think it was the total package - her arrogance, and the classic face that both seduced and then sneered at me as though she knew me too well. She had stretched her arms backward with her hands behind her head, knowing the pristine white blouse would fail to hide her enormous breasts, and that she'd catch me looking.

"Thanks for the rambling lecture, Juliet, but I have work to do. Get out of my chair."

"That's no way to talk to your boss while Charles is away," she said, her grin growing wider.

"Enough of your games, Juliet. I don't believe you. I've talked to Charles about you - he'd never put you in charge here."

"Oh, that? Yes, he had his turn lecturing me. I didn't appreciate that. You and I will settle that score later. Maybe I'll pay you another visit while Amanda's away enjoying the kind of cock you couldn't give her. We did have fun, didn't we, little man? By the way, do you think Amanda would enjoy watching the video of us playing together there in your bedroom that day? Do you think she'd be pissed, or maybe even destroyed watching us? She might even decide to stay with Vicente after that. I'm pretty sure she's considered it before, even when she thought you were her 'good boy'."

Fuck me. Would she really show Amanda the video? Amanda would be devastated, especially knowing firsthand how cruel Juliet could be. I couldn't let that happen; I may lose Amanda to Vicente, at least until he grew tired of fucking her, but I'd have lost her just the same.

"Okay - what do you want, Juliet?" I asked finally. "What do I have to do to keep Amanda from seeing it?"

She got up from my chair, looked me up and down, then strolled over to me. I gasped when she clamped her hand around my cage and pulled me closer.

"You remember how we play, don't you? You do anything I say. Show me what you're made of - a desperate little man who can't keep his wife's pussy at home anymore. You're so good at this game, I shouldn't have to remind you. Now, tell me what a dirty little slut that wife of yours is. And, how much you like it. I do so love hearing you confess to me. Don't keep me waiting, cucky boy."

At least there weren't any cameras. I'd do anything to keep the video of Juliet and me from Amanda, especially while she was out of reach, and probably getting Vicente's cock as often as she could. Thinking of them together again, of Vicente as Amanda's "boyfriend", made me nervous enough. But I was terrified that she'd decide to stay with him. It was clear Juliet could see that; she had the same kind of intuitive telepathy that Charles had, and she delighted in using it to play, and win, her perverted games.

"Okay, Juliet. You win. My wife's a dirty little slut, and I like it. Anything else?"

Her long fingers probed deeper into the front of my pants, then moved lower between my legs until she found my balls. I winced when she f o r c e d her fingertips into them. It was enough to send an ache up into my gut. She was smiling, her face now inches from mine.

"That didn't sound very sincere, little man," she sneered. "Do better."

When her fingertips sank deeper, I cried out in pain and finally surrendered.

"Amanda's a dirty little slut. She is. She needs cock from other men. Lots of men. Better men than me. And I like it; I like watching her cum with them. I like seeing her satisfied like she never was with me. She's a slut and I love it - okay?"

"That's the hubby I came to see today," she said, wearing her widest grin. "Now strip."

"I-I can't do that here, in my office, at work," I pleaded. "This is too much, Juliet. Not here, please?"

She didn't appear to hear me. "I'm waiting, little man. Your balls are at stake here, so don't test my patience."

"At least lock the door. I have to work with these people. I'll do whatever you want, Juliet, but lock the door first."

She chuckled. Laughed in my face. I had never seen her eyes so fierce.

"'I'll do whatever you want, Juliet' she repeated, mocking me. Just hearing you say those few, simple words makes me wet - do you know that? Yeah, I imagine you do. But I'll play - I'll lock the door for you, but that's the last favor from me, understand?"

She turned and walked to the door, rolling her hips like a hungry hooker. I remembered her statuesque body, how tall and lean she was, how her huge breasts seemed to have been fitted onto her frame as though she was an exaggerated caricature of Ilsa the She-Wolf. The black leather skirt strained to contain her hardened ass and long, firm thighs, making her stroll to my door a vision of Domme perfection. I couldn't help it - her body, and her commanding presence both scared and excited me.

She locked my door and stood there, scanning my body from head to toe. Two buttons of her blouse had come undone, and her magnificent breasts had burst through the opening, her nipples erect and bright red with excitement.

"Happy now, little man?" she asked, her grin now blackening to an impatient glare. I just nodded, fearing she'd twist any more of my words into the humiliating banter she thrived on.

"Except, you're not naked - don't you care about your balls at all anymore? I can see you don't act like you have any, and I'm sure Amanda thinks of you as her neutered husband, but I will take those useless little nuggets in my hand and rip them off if you continue to antagonize me. I'm a creature of little patience - don't make me show you my limits..."

Undressing in my office seemed surreal. Juliet appeared to count each piece of clothing I removed as she watched. When I stopped at my underwear, she took a step closer and stared at my crotch. "I said everything. I don't give a s h i t that you're ashamed to show me your dick; I've seen everything, remember? One more chance, little man. Hand me your boxers. Then thank me for letting you get naked for me."

I cringed as I lowered them. I felt the weight of my cage tug on me with my every move as I drew my boxers down along my legs and slipped them over my bare feet. I hadn't prepared myself for how helpless and exposed I felt. I expected the worst from Juliet; she had no conscience, no sense of decency, only an obsession for inflicting fear and pain.

She stepped nearer, to within a foot of me, then grasped my cage in her hand, lifting and twisting it just a little as she watched the expression on my face.

"I don't hear you thanking me. Try to keep up, little man."

"Th-thank you - for, letting me get naked for you," I recited, while I raged inside.

"Well, you're even less of a man than I remember. I think your dick's even smaller, which may be an improvement for a man like you. I'm sure Amanda's happy about that. That she's abandoned any possibility of sex with you while she's getting drilled every day now by her dream lover is something I'm sure she appreciates."

Her fingers crept lower, again probing my balls with her sharpened nails. I gasped when the shocks of pain showed her where to apply pressure. She'd dwell there, testing, grinning, as I squirmed in her hand.

"Now we'll see what the right kind of persuasion will accomplish," she promised. "You like the way things are, don't you? Your dick now useless, while your sweet wife cums on Vicente's potent cock? You know she deserves him instead of you, don't you?"

When I hesitated, her fingertips sent electric reminders up into my belly.

"Yes," I confessed. "She deserves him. He - he gives her what I can't. His cock, I mean. And - she, wants him. She likes him. Maybe she loves him. Oh God, I'm afraid I've lost her..."

Juliet huffed and rolled her eyes. "Finally! You understand! You don't belong with her - you belong here, with me, my pet, on your knees. I'll show you - do it."

She hiked her skirt up to her waist and spread her legs. "Even you can be useful to a woman. If you want to save your useless balls, use your mouth - make me cum. Your dick may not be worth much, but this - this is your real talent. Don't bother to speak - just do it."

Once on my knees, I looked up into the wet, fluted wings of her cunt. Gleaming pools of her juices had collected in the shallows of her inner thighs, and her swollen labia seemed to throb as they beckoned me. I leaned forward and rested my hands on her hard, muscular thighs. And then I licked, up along her thighs through the remnants of her musky juices, then traced gentle lines along her swollen, fleshy labia. Her fingers were buried in my hair, pulling me into her, grinding my mouth against her pussy. I could feel her thighs flex repeatedly as I worked. She moaned as she thrust her hips forward, enveloping my mouth and tongue in her sopping, greedy opening. Her clit became a long, thick, engorged finger against my face, and it seemed like I sucked it for hours before she came. I was sure her words were loud enough for the outer office to hear.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck! You - amazing - little - man! You - eat - pussy - like - a girl! I'll keep you - like this - forever!"

Minutes after she came, she lowered her skirt and opened my office door. I was still naked, and scrambled for cover behind my desk. Juliet turned and paused for a second as she strolled from my office, her glorious, leather-covered ass swaying, advertising her exit. "Better hide that stiffy, sport. I think you like me more than you let on."

I had just finished dressing when Ken knocked at my door. "It's open," I answered, still out of breath and fidgeting in my chair. He burst in, wide-eyed, then glanced back into the outer office. "Jesus! Who was that? My God - was that your secretary? Now, that's what I call a flaming-hot lady!"

"That's what I call 'death on two legs', Ken. She belongs to Charles, and she's my worst nightmare. Don't make her yours."

More! More! More!
Thank you Don.
I'm loving this story and it's characters more with every chapter.
I'm loving Juliet and want to be her little cuckold bitch 😈❤️ x

Juliet's my favorite character as well. It's fun writing a character most men would consider such an evil bitch. The irony of her name still makes me smile. She's actually loosely based on a character named "Shayla" in one of my old stories, although Shayla piled it on much heavier and was more dangerous. Juliet's a softer version, if you can imagine that...

Don

She's perfect for the story ❤️ x

I promise you haven't seen the last of her. Chapter 27 in progress.

Don

That's good news, because this story is awesome!

oh yes, that's very good news
.
Submissive Cuckold - lives for many years in a female-led marriage with a cuckold lifestyle.

A big thank you to all who have stayed with the story. Here's chapter 27, with 28 and 29 almost ready. I hope you enjoy...

Don




Chapter 27


My life was a nightmare while Charles and Amanda were away. I had dreams of Amanda as the center of orgies with Vicente and his friends - rich, powerfully built men with inexhaustible erections who took her repeatedly as the others watched and filmed them for the enjoyment of those who could afford Charles's secret website. I'd wake in the middle of the night, take Vicente's lifelike cock out of its box, and wonder over and over how Amanda could possibly take all of it inside her. I'd wonder why she'd ever want mine again, and strangely, I'd feel my dick struggle to break free from my cage. Fuck me. How could I be hard imagining my sweet Amanda's obsession with a cock like his, and her disappointment with mine? My dick would leak a little river of precum, coating my cage and wetting the sheet under me until I'd finally fall asleep. The dreams that followed were always of Amanda and Vicente in bed, naked, kissing deeply like husband and wife.

Juliet strolled through the office like she owned the place most days. I dreaded our daily "sessions" together, never knowing when she'd be there, leaning against my open door, her hips intentionally canted to one side to tell me it was time for another private "meeting". During our second session, she retrieved a narrow leather band from her purse and demanded I turn around, bend over, and spread my legs. Getting naked in my office for Juliet was always frightening; if she had forgotten to lock the door and anyone had come in and seen me like that, well, I couldn't imagine ever returning to work.

"This is my little way of keeping you in line," she said, as she fastened the leather band around the base of my sac just under the cage. "The instructions warn to be careful of how tightly this fits - something about cutting off circulation to the testicles. I think I'm adjusting it correctly - I guess we'll find out in time."

"In time?" I asked in a panic. "What do you mean, in time? You expect me to wear this? All the time?"

"I expect you to do as you're told, little man. I don't know why you're so worried - it wouldn't be much of a loss now, would it? You've practically given up your balls already. I mean, now that Vicente and Amanda are a couple again. She's never going to want to fuck you again. You know that. In fact, I hear he's given her a diamond, a huge one she wears on her finger everywhere they go. The gossip is that he's ready to settle down with a sexy, slutty girl who's perfect for his lifestyle. I'm sure she's elated, and won't miss your balls for one second."

"I don't believe you!" I told her. "Amanda loves me."

"Hmmm - maybe, but she loves his cock more," she said, smiling. "Now, let's finish this."

She clipped a thin leather leash to a D-ring attached to the band, gave it a slight tug, and then paraded me around my desk, glowing with satisfaction. When her stride suddenly hastened and the tension sent a nagging ache up into my belly, I groaned.

"Lesson number one, little man," she explained when she turned and took a step closer. Her eyes were inches from mine, her disgust unmistakable. "Learn to recognize your weakness. Like all men, it's your balls. Oh, I know - you consider them so precious, the core of your manhood. In your case, they're the only tiny bits of manhood you have left, but I know you'll do anything to keep them. That's your weakness. And that's such delicious fun. So tell me, you do want to keep them, don't you?"

She tugged harder, and the pain ravaged my groin.

"Agghh, yes - yes, Juliet - I want to keep them!"

"Even if Amanda never wants you again?"

"Yes! Even then! Please!"

"We'll see how well you behave then," she promised. "Get down on the floor, on your knees."

She had pulled her skirt up to her waist, and once on the floor, I looked up into her long, reddened gash.

"I'm a strict but fair teacher, little man. Your education begins here and now. It may take some time, but you'll thank me eventually. We'll start with that little slut of a wife you worry so much about. It's what she is - there's no question about it. A dirty, little slut. You know it, don't you? So tell me. Say it!"

She raised the leash slowly until my balls ached, and then farther until the pain grew unbearably upward through my body.

"Okay! Okay! I know it! She's a slut! My wife's a slut! Please no more! Pleeease!"

"Good boy," she told me, smiling with approval. "Now, you must know why she's such a slut. All those years with you, hoping you'd learn how to fuck her the way she wanted it, wishing your dick filled her desperate, hungry pussy just a bit more so she might cum at least now and then. And then came the fantasies, the really filthy ones she created over those years, ones she had to keep secret to protect your fragile little ego. Maybe she even began to resent you sometimes. Oh, not because your dick was so small, at least not at first; but because you were so clueless about what a woman like Amanda needs. Maybe she wanted you to be a "man", the kind who fucks her like you're taking her, winning her, making her yours in ways you just weren't equipped to manage."

"But she never told me - she never complained," I said, looking up along her body over her enormous breasts. "It was years and years, and she never told me!"

"Yes, it was years of her secrets. And then she betrayed you. And so willingly, so eagerly, with your new boss, the very first time they met. You saw a brighter future together, and all she saw was a huge cock, like the ones in her fantasies. You shouldn't have been so clueless all those years, but how could you know what a slut she was at heart? How could you know she'd suck and fuck the first huge cock that was offered to her? It must have meant more to her than your shame, and marriage. She fell for that first big cock. Right there in your new boss's office. She didn't even care that you had to watch."

It took me back to that time, the anticipation, the optimism of a new job and a brighter future. Amanda had been so excited when I told her. I remembered her smile, and how she put her arms around me and kissed me; she was so proud of me. My God, the love in her eyes at that moment. We made love that night, and she was ravenous, probably more than she had ever been with me. She came so deeply, her moans so long and cries so shrill that I was afraid the neighbors might hear her through the open bedroom window. Then, it came to me that it was the same window where Amanda later watched Eric jerk off, the same window where she practically invited him to fuck her.

Juliet gave the leash some slack and led me to the front of my desk. She hoisted herself up over the front edge and sat there, spreading her legs as much as the tiny skirt would allow. My God, she was soaked, glistening with juices incited by her sick games. She saw me staring, then crossed her legs.

"Not yet, little man. I know you're eager to get to it, but no pussy until we're done, if you're compliant enough. We need to talk about our favorite couple. Amanda has fallen hard for him. You know that, right? It was inevitable; a rich, handsome man with cock like his can have any women he wants. And honestly, she's always been a bit greedy, hasn't she? It took very little to disturb the solitude of your marriage after she recognized the prospect of more money and a better cock on the horizon. Tell me, how does it feel to be ignored by your wife in the bedroom? And it's so easy for her now that you're wearing your cage. I wonder? Do you think she had a part in Charles's insistence that you wear it all the time now? I mean, it is a convenient excuse for her to stop fucking you after she's had 'bigger and better'."

It had never occurred to me that Amanda would have had anything to do with caging me. But she had never made a serious argument for having it removed, and at times seemed to delight in teasing me with unkept promises to free me. Was it a "convenient excuse" to avoid fucking me? Had her disappointment with me become more bothersome, or maybe even unbearably annoying after she found "bigger and better"?

"You look worried, little man. But that's a good thing - it means you're benefitting from your education. That light in your eyes when you begin to understand - it warms my heart. Once you're more certain of Amanda's betrayal, it becomes easier to let her go. Think of how excited she was to go back to him, to be with him as his woman. You can tell yourself it was just his cock, but you saw the fire in her eyes just before she left, her need to belong to a real man. He's taken your sweet little wife from you, and she made it so easy for him."

Juliet was so convincing, her statuesque body so intimidating there with her long legs spread over the edge of my desk. It was so tempting to believe her while on my knees at the end of her leash. She pried open crevices of doubt, inviting surrender to her suggestions that Amanda had become a woman I no longer knew or deserved. Still, I was all too familiar with Juliet's games, and I knew she was ultimately driven by some depraved personal agenda. When I didn't reply, she tugged on the leash again, this time with enough ***** to make me cry out in pain.

"This is for your own good, little man. You're supposed to participate. How do you expect to learn anything if you don't pay attention?"

"What do you want me to say, Juliet?" I begged. "I know Amanda's been distracted, and sometimes her attitude tries my patience. But I can't blame her for wanting a better life, a beautiful home, and expensive cars and clothes. What wife wouldn't? And the sex? What could I have done? Treat her like a slut? Grow a bigger dick for her? I know part of it is my fault. I should have asked what she needed. I just didn't imagine..."

Juliet leaned forward suddenly and interrupted me. "Aha! Now you're so close to seeing it! 'Part' of it was your fault. But what about her part? Did your loving wife confide in you? Tell you what she needed? Or was her solution to getting her unmet 'needs' more devious? Maybe by planting the oh-so-subtle seeds of your own kinky fantasies? I know how it works - withhold sex until hubby's so horny he'll do anything for some pussy, then tease him with sexy details of her past lovers? Next, slip in a few dirty suggestions at the very moment he's coming. Amanda's many things, but she's not stupid. What was it? 'Oh, baby, he's fucking me, and he's sooo big!'? Or maybe, 'Baby, you're watching me with him, and he's making me cum sooo hard!'? Men like you are so easily led down a path an 'innocent', discreetly voracious wife creates for you. And with men like you, there's no going back. It's a one-way trip, and the destination is one you believe was your own idea from the very beginning."

"But it wasn't like that, Juliet!" I assured her. "I've had the fantasies as long as I can remember. I'm not sure when they started, but I know Amanda had nothing to do with them."

"You seem very sure of yourself, little man. But the beginning is always clouded in shame. Your defenses bury it so deeply that you refuse to accept Amanda's sly, playful innuendos as the spark that brought your fantasies to life. You can't remember how and when because you won't allow yourself to accept that it was Amanda's lust-driven agenda all along."

I couldn't think of any situation where Amanda hinted at wanting sex with another man before we met Charles. Still, the birth of my fantasies was a mystery. Where had they come from? Suddenly, scenes from our past came back to me. Eric had always been there, offering to help Amanda with her laptop even before he graduated. I'd come home from work to find them side-by-side in the den, crouched over her computer, laughing together at one of Eric's jokes.

Had Amanda always dressed a bit more, I don't know, "not wifey", when he was around? Were her shorts a little shorter? Were her hair and makeup done more perfectly, maybe to draw a bit more attention? And there were her frequent compliments about him when he wasn't around, how he had grown into such a handsome young man, and how the girls must all be after his fit, tanned body. He'd be there when I'd arrive and leave shortly after, as though I was some kind of interloper in my own home.

Those thoughts brought to mind the day I came home early and passed the den to find them there, shoulder-to-shoulder in front of Amanda's laptop. A few buttons on Amanda's summer blouse were left undone, and Eric was staring inside the opening. When she saw him looking, she leaned forward, allowing the material to fall to the side, exposing her breast and nipple. At the time I had convinced myself it was an innocent circumstance, not an intended flirtation. Still, Amanda never went braless, and I remembered how surprised I was that she hadn't worn one that day. I had forgotten the sight of her bare breast completely exposed there, and Eric's long stare and grin as he ogled her body. Had she known he would look? Did she allow it a little too long before turning to greet me as I stood watching at the door? Was it the first time I imagined her fucking someone else - and was that someone Eric?

"You poor thing," Juliet said, with mock sympathy. "I can see the wheels turning in there, your head full of Amanda's past 'innocent' flirtations that you tried to ignore. She was always going to make you a cuckold, little man. Did you ever suspect she was looking for a husband like you to begin with? Someone who would cave to her agenda and simply let her fuck anyone she wanted? Or, maybe a husband who even got off on it? I'm betting she was never as innocent as you believed."

Even though I recognized Juliet's claims as lies and manipulation, doubts about Amanda's past behavior began to simmer beneath my collapsing defenses. That, combined with the fear and concern that she may stay with Vicente and I'd never see her again, was hollowing me out. It was too much to reason my way through, and the darker passenger that lived in me fought to win me over. Even if Amanda's flirtations were intentional, had she planned to fuck Eric all along? Maybe, but I still clung to the possibility that Amanda's behavior was merely an un c o n s c i o u s response to my failure as a lover. Had she innocently enjoyed Eric's attention in the midst of her frustration with me, never intending to bring her fantasies about him to life?

I remembered witnessing their relationship become more personal back then and even thanked Eric for being there for Amanda when I traveled for work. I had welcomed Eric into our home, even after noticing Amanda glance at his cock now and then at the pool. I told myself, what married woman wouldn't be tempted to sneak a peek at a young stud in his Speedo? She even teased me a few times about him having a crush on her and asked if I was jealous. I assured her I wasn't - that I was glad she had a friend next door she could depend on while I was away. Fuck me - had I unwittingly encouraged them?

"I have to believe it wasn't an 'agenda', Juliet," I told her. "Amanda needed sex, and I wasn't giving her what she needed. I just never recognized it. Amanda was tempted when Eric was around, but I doubt she gave in to her passion back then. Did seeing them flirt secretly excite me, just a little? I think so, but not because Amanda planned for me to enjoy it. It just triggered something in me I still don't understand. Men always flirted with her. They always wanted her. I thought what I felt was pride - but it was something else. That's when it all began."

"If you say so, little man. But give it time to play out. Consider what you know about Amanda now compared to your rose-colored memories of when you married her. You never saw her inner craving for cock back then, but men like you seldom do. Now you can thank me."

I felt the leash draw me closer. She uncrossed her legs and opened them, showing me the reddened, wet core between them.

"Your performance will set you free, little man - eventually. Don't disappoint me."

I knew what she wanted. I licked the insides of her strong thighs and felt the muscles beneath her skin tense and relax as I worked slowly upward. She urged me on, tightening the leash; the familiar dull ache traveled through my groin as the band around my balls ushered me toward my destination. Once there, I licked, until a sudden tug on the leash buried my face in her cunt.

"This is what you're made for!" she moaned. "This - is why Amanda - put up with you - so long. She may be - a slut - for cock now, but - this - is why - I'll keep you - around - forever!"

She tightened the leash as she came, crushing my balls in a bolt of agony. When I groaned, she thrashed wildly, pulling the leash even tighter until I collapsed, gasping between her hardened thighs. Finally, I felt the leash slacken, knowing her lesson that day was complete, and that she'd soon leave me, alone, naked, and more doubtful than ever that I knew the real Amanda.



***

Juliet visited me in my office every day for two weeks. I fell far behind Ken in my share of our projects, although he never complained or asked why. My groin ached from Juliet's daily sessions, and my heart ached for Amanda to come back to me. As much as I loved Amanda, Juliet's manipulations continued to leave nagging questions about her I couldn't seem to shake. Amanda hadn't contacted me once while she was away, and I feared the worst, that she'd been persuaded to stay with Vicente after Charles returned, if indeed he did return.

I watched Ken's lust for Juliet grow as time passed. He didn't approach her or talk to her, but he watched her constantly as she moved about the outer office as though she was Charles's successor. It was during our after-hours time at the nearby pub that he went on and on about her, how his attraction to Juliet was nearly beyond his control. I'd warn him cautiously that she chewed men up and spit them out, and finally that she'd almost certainly destroy his marriage.

"But, she's in your office every day, man," he'd argue. "With the door closed. You aren't afraid for your marriage? I mean, Amanda's a gorgeous woman, but Juliet, she's all that and something else..."

I stopped him there, put my beer down on the table, and sighed. "Ken, I want nothing more than to stop her daily visits. She's a conniving bitch who thrives on sick games, only ones that let her see others suffer."

Ken shrugged his shoulders and grinned. "Well, I wouldn't mind a little of that kind of suffering now and then. Jesus, that body, and the clothes she wears to show it off. It's like she's advertising."

"She isn't 'advertising', Ken. She's 'consuming' - every man or woman she sets her sights on. She's a dangerous predator in a captivating package."

"So, you're not having sex with her in there. The rumor's everywhere at the office. Does Amanda know what they're saying?"

I wasn't getting through to him, at least not at the level I had hoped. It was time to punch a bit harder, maybe even below the belt.

"Ken, Juliet doesn't like sex with men, at least not if it doesn't involve lots of pain and h u m i l i a t i o n. She set her sights on Amanda long ago, and she's used her viciously, more than once. Amanda is obsessed with pleasing Charles, so she submits to Juliet. I've seen the video."

Ken's open-mouth stare told me I was finally getting his attention. "So, Amanda and Juliet?" he whispered. "Having sex together? And Amanda lets her? Or does she like it?"

"There are times in the video when there's a fine line between the two, Ken. I'm not really sure, because we haven't talked about it. Amanda doesn't know the video exists."

Ken's shocked look told me he had just now grasped what his own future may bring. He was quiet for a while; I was sure he was processing his mental vision of a very naked Amanda and Juliet together in bed, doing God knows what. Then he frowned, and I knew his vision had changed. It was time to dish him a chilling dose of reality.

"Chrissy's a beautiful girl, Ken. Don't think Juliet hasn't noticed. You know best how she might react if Juliet gets her hooks in her. I've seen how she looks at Chrissy, and you have to decide whether the money is worth it - how your success here might require Chrissy's part to be more, um, 'promiscuous'. You know what Charles expects - you and Chrissy have seen the first of that there in his office. He'll expect more of the same, but not just with him. Wives are instruments of trade for Charles. He will give you the lifestyle he promises - that big house, nice cars, and more money than you know, but only after she gives more. His 'generosity' can blind people to the high price they'll pay. You and Chrissy have to decide how far you're willing to go to pay it."

He looked more troubled, and seemed to be struggling with his next words. When his concern became panicked fear, he broke into his confession. "It's Chrissy. I think she likes it - the sex with him. She doesn't want to stop. It's - it's mostly the money, I think, and the upscale lifestyle she was used to growing up. Her dad never thought I could give her that, but she married me anyway and he cut her off. She's so determined now, to show her dad he was wrong, and to recover what she sacrificed. Sometimes, lately, I think she'd willingly prostitute herself to get what she wants. It's become an obsession, especially after finding what the new job pays. And there's the house...my God, she's already a prostitute, and so am I for, for..."

"I know, I know," I said. "But Chrissy's not the only one who likes it, at least a little, is she? I saw you when Charles was done with the two of you that day. I know what it's like to feel it grow inside you - the arousal, and then the confusion and embarrassment of that first erection while you watch.

"I'm not saying you're not qualified for the job here, Ken - I know you are. But Charles looks for a little something extra in his new hires, something we both have. He can smell it on us the instant he meets us. He sees a wife who's much too pretty to be with her husband, and a husband who knows it and will do anything to please her, to keep her. He's also learned that our 'much too pretty wives' always have unmet needs. The men who stare at them and flirt with them are lingering temptations to stray. At first, our wives think less of us for allowing it if we don't object or threaten the men who openly try to seduce them. But those same men appeal to our wives' desires to be protected, owned, and fucked like their secret fantasies. They're living examples of the 'Alpha males' in our wives' fantasies and dreams."

Ken took another gulp of his beer, set it back on the table, then shook his head slowly. "I've seen other guys stare at Chrissy. I've never mentioned it because I didn't want to seem overly jealous, and I guess I thought it would only bring it to her attention. Honestly, I was afraid she might enjoy it and, well, be tempted to...". He stopped without saying the very thing that made the mix of fear and arousal rise in his gut.

"I can tell you this, Ken; once wives discover that watching them fuck other men excites us, or even that we entertain erotic thoughts of them falling for another man's seduction, it amplifies their fearlessness. It's like we've given them our tacit approval to act out their fantasies. It's much too late for Amanda and me to go back; she saw through me right away, and I've been very open about my willing participation. In your case, all this is new to Chrissy. She's overwhelmed by your new life, swimming in waters much deeper than she knows. The money, your new home, Charles's huge cock: together, they're like a d r u g, a new, delirious high to her. If you don't want to continue to repay Charles's generosity with Chrissy's body, find a way out, now, before it becomes her addiction. In time, she won't just be fucking Charles; she'll fuck anyone Charles wishes, just to sweeten one of his business prospects. And Ken, they'll all be rich, powerful, Alpha men who won't need to seduce her. She'll be gagging for them to fuck her."

I watched Ken slump in his chair, his head down, his shoulder shaking as though he was about to cry. "T-then, I'm fucked, right? I always worried this job was too good to be true, but I wanted Chrissy to have all the things her dad warned her she'd never have with me. Even if she agrees to whatever Charles demands, I couldn't live like that, and with the h u m i l i a t i o n of everyone knowing. I just can't believe this; Chrissy never let on she had these fantasies. She just let Charles have her that day in his office. She didn't even care that I was there watching. We haven't had sex since. She's always too tired or too busy. I can't give up having sex with her - I just can't. But she doesn't care; she wants me to stay on here and accept it."

I pitied Ken in a way. In spite of his reaction during the night of their 'initiation', and his helpless arousal in Charles's office, it was clear he wasn't ready to permanently surrender his pretty young wife to Charles under any condition. And yet, I had seen Chrissy visit the office more than once, always eager to "thank" Charles for his generosity. Their argument I had overheard had been more than enough to tell me Ken was losing her to Charles's promise of a life she desperately wanted. Did he even have a choice at this point?

"You'll have to work this out together, Ken," I told him. "I don't know Chrissy well enough to help you do that, but it's clear she needs what Charles is providing, and I don't mean just the sex. But sex with Charles is the bait and the hook, Ken. You saw his cock, and how much Chrissy loved it. Amanda was the same way with him, the very first time. But I'm guessing Chrissy's reward is as much or more the money, the life she no longer had after she married you. There are probably some 'Daddy' issues mixed in as well, from what you've told me.

"Amanda had these rampant, secret, sex fantasies about strong, dominating men - and yes, with big cocks as well, from the day we married. The first time she saw me watch her with Charles, she knew I'd allow her those fantasies. I never knew she hungered for our young, hung, next-door neighbor in the past until Charles found out and hired him. After that, Amanda fucked him repeatedly, as well as other men I couldn't hope to compete with. And, so help me, I began to love it. Our wives have a common need, Ken, but maybe not for the same reasons. You can find another way to shower Chrissy with the material things she still longs for, but I can't grow a huge cock or be the Alpha male of Amanda's dreams."

I knew I had shocked Ken with my personal confession about Amanda, but he needed some glimmer of hope that he might escape the same fate. Chrissy may never forget Charles's cock, but if Ken could find an opportunity somewhere else that afforded her the lifestyle Daddy had provided her, there was still a chance they'd escape Charles's grasp with their marriage intact. But Chrissy wasn't Amanda, and it may be more difficult for Ken to satisfy Chrissy's appetite for 'bling' than it had been for me to allow Amanda her prize cocks. Maybe he knew that as well, but just couldn't bear allowing Chrissy to become another of Charles's office sluts. I was beginning to see the real Chrissy better day after day, and knowing his concerns, I didn't envy him.

"If you can't sort it out, if Chrissy won't come to her senses, know this, Ken. Something big is coming - something that will make your sex life insignificant by comparison. I'm risking everything myself by telling you, but it's not right that you and Chrissy get caught up in it. When it happens, it will quite possibly separate you and Chrissy for a long time to come. It will mean public h u m i l i a t i o n and financial ruin. Whatever remains of your marriage will never be the same. If you leave now, Chrissy will forgive you after the dust settles. Don't wait for Charles to return, or for Juliet to make Chrissy her new plaything. I can't tell you more; I hope that's enough."


***

The days crawled while Amanda was away. Charles had left word that he'd be gone for two weeks, but as two weeks dragged into three, I hadn't heard a word from him or Amanda.

To make matters worse, Juliet's random visits became "appointments". A week of them showed up on my shared office calendar where everyone would notice. Some were early in the morning, some during lunch, and others an hour after everyone left for the day. The title, "Training", enflamed the already rampant office gossip about Juliet's private time in my office, so I became a hermit, rarely venturing out to engage with others. The panic about Amanda's time with Vicente, the h u m i l i a t i o n of the entire office's suspicions after each of Juliet's visits, and Juliet's threats of showing Amanda our videos together, had made me a walking zombie. Gallons of coffee during the day only increased my angst and anxiety.

In spite of my talk with Ken, Chrissy showed up daily at the office, always eager to "thank" Charles for his generosity. I began to notice that Ken would avoid her, and at times make excuses why he couldn't spend time with her there, rushing off to an "unscheduled meeting" shortly after she arrived. She'd stop by my office after Ken's exit, seemingly obsessed with Charles's return.

"But, you said he'd be back in two weeks," she'd repeat. "I don't want him to think I'm - I mean - we're ungrateful. Will he be back soon?"

I'd give the same excuses, that he'd been delayed, and he'd let us know soon. I hoped she hadn't noticed me staring. Chrissy was noticeably taller in the heels she began to wear. The fitted knit tops emphasized her long, tiny waist, her meager breasts, and pouty nipples. Daddy's little girl now took on the look of a runway model. Without a bra, she wasn't quite slutty; it was more like she was advertising her new status and "availability" as the boss's pet. She knew her legs were her best feature, and displayed them beneath the briefest pleated skater's skirts that lifted and whirled with a shameless pirouette each time she arrived and left the office. The cascade of golden hair seemed fuller; she had let it grow longer until it caressed her shoulders and breasts in an explosion of waves and curls. Within weeks, she had left Ken's w o m a n - c h i l d behind for the mouthwatering siren she had become. Her stroll through our offices reminded me of how the men drooled over Amanda shortly after Charles had worked his magic.

"But, do you how soon?" she'd ask, almost desperate for the day and time. I'd just shake my head again, trying not to notice her long, slim legs. She saw me looking, grinned, and twirled, just once.

"Do you like it? It's new. I wanted to show Ken, but he isn't in."

Just then she opened her mouth in surprise and pushed the front of the skirt down with both hands in an unconvincing act of embarrassment. I had seen the minuscule, pink thong under her skirt, and the deep crevice where it clung to her pussy like wet tissue paper. I wondered how Charles's fat cock would ever have fit when he buried it to the hilt inside her. Chrissy was one surprise after another.

"Oh! I should be more careful, I guess!" she gushed, grinning even wider. "I'm not used to such nice things, and how they fit me. But you do like them, don't you?"

She twirled again, this time holding the front against her thighs. When the back lifted even farther, the tiny thong exposed her hard, round ass as though she wore nothing at all. It was a delicious sight, but one I knew was meant for Charles, and not for me or Ken.

"Ken's a lucky man," I told her. "He really loves you."

"You think so?" she asked, now more sober. "He hasn't paid as much attention to me as he used to. He's so busy, so distracted. I hope he's successful here; I'm so proud of him."

"He's a huge help to me, Chrissy. We work well together, and I like him. I can't see why Charles wouldn't want him to stay. It can be stressful here though, for our wives too, with our long hours and time away from home. You should probably get used to that. Still, the job isn't for everyone. It can be hard to keep a marriage together."

She didn't appear to be processing what I said at all. She seemed nervous, as though she was impatient to turn and leave. Her hands continued to press the pleats of her skirt deeply into the space between her thighs, her wide eyes focused elsewhere.

"When I mentioned I was looking for a job, Charles told me not to worry; Ken would be making enough to keep us very comfortable. He told me to enjoy the life of a company wife - that I should spend my time shopping, working out at the gym, and furnishing our beautiful new home. Sacrificing a little time with Ken while he's working longer hours is worth it, isn't it? For a life just like M o t h e r ' s? It's my dream come true."

I just stared at her. "Maybe, Chrissy," I warned her. "Just be careful what you wish for. In the end, there is a price for all of it."

She thought for a moment, grinned at me, then tossed a shower of golden curls over her shoulder. "Oh, you! You're such a tease! Oh - tell Amanda to call me. After talking at the party, I think it's the start of an awesome friendship. Bye!"

As she left, she turned so quickly that the tiny skirt lifted even higher. There were miles of leg under it, and the tightest little ass I had seen in a very long time.


***

"What the heck is that?" Ken asked when he entered my office the following Monday.

It had been delivered and assembled over the weekend, an eight-foot tower of black metal tubing and leather. I snatched the note from it seconds after reading it.

"Thinking of you, my sweet. What delicious fun we'll have together."
-Juliet

"It's, um, one of Charles's bonuses - some kind of exercise machine, I guess. It was here when I got in this morning. I haven't had time to take a good look at it."

Ken went to it, released two clips along the sides, and the center panel swiveled forward into the room.

"It's an inversion rack. I used to have one before Chrissy and I got married. I had a bad back and wanted to make sure I was in shape so Chrissy and I could, well, you know. They really work - it takes the kinks out after just a few minutes. Pretty thoughtful, actually. It should help you relax. I wonder if I could hit him up for one of these too, after all the long hours we put in?"

"I didn't ask for it, Ken, but I'm sure he'd get you one if it helps you get more work done."

Seeing it work made my gut churn. Fucking great - a t o r t u r e machine in my own office. I guessed I'd have to use Ken's explanation when others asked about it. "Help me relax?" Fuck, I knew Juliet had anything but that in mind when she had it delivered. Charles couldn't get back soon enough.

"Well, I know you have an appointment with Juliet again in an hour, and I have plenty to keep me busy before Charles gets back." He patted me on the shoulder, grinned, and winked. "Better use that thing to loosen up before Juliet gets you all to herself."

"Not funny, Ken," I told him, frowning. "Remember what I told you?"

"Don't worry. I believe you, but no one out there does. Still, she can meet with me in my office, any time she wants."

"Be careful what you wish for, Ken. She just might."



***

Juliet stopped by my office at noon to tell me her "training" would be delayed until later in the day. She had begun to dress more and more outrageously as Charles's absence wore on into the third week. She loved posing in my doorway, leaning against the jam with her hips thrust to one side, grinning at me as though I was her next meal. Juliet seldom surprised me anymore, but on this day, she had outdone herself. The pristine white blouse hugged her waist like a second skin, barely containing her enormous breasts that overflowed into the space left by three open buttons. Her long legs were sheathed in black leather boots with six-inch heels and rose to mid-thigh. Above them, the tiny black leather skirt was almost a belt, promising a shameless look at her pussy if one stared just long enough. In one hand she held a two-foot leather crop that she wielded menacingly, tapping it against the palm of her hand. It was too much; had she lost her mind?

"I see my present was delivered," she told me as she glanced at it and grinned. "We're going to have so much fun now that Amanda is gone for good. I have such exquisite things to show you. I can make you cum like she never did. She never made you beg for it - that's what will make it special for the two of us. And, her satisfaction, her bliss, her excitement - none of those things ever existed when you fucked her; they couldn't hope to compare to the pleasure you'll give me. And you will please me, little man."

"You're so wrong about so many things, Juliet," I assured her. "Amanda and Charles will be back any day. I'll play your games until then; I'll do anything I have to to keep her. But you have to promise not to show her those videos. I'd never be able to explain to her, even after what she's done. She'd hate me for it. And she'd hate you almost as much."

"Relax, little man. I know you now. You'll be more compliant than any of my pets in the past because you're motivated by such futile delusions that Amanda might still come back to you and become the same neglected, sex-starved wife who put up with you for so many years. She doesn't want your useless little dick - she never did, and she never will. If she does come back to you, you'll be a pet to her as well, a husband whose only sex is watching real men fuck her. But for a weepy romantic like yourself, I guess that's something. I suppose she might 'love' you for being just that, a neutered pet who dribbles in his tiny cage while she cums on other men's thick, hard cocks. So, go ahead - pine for her. Think warm, comforting thoughts about the wife other men have made a real woman. I'll give you that. And if you obey my every word, she'll never see a second of our fun and games."

Juliet had moved slowly to my desk as she spoke, her hands on her hips, the crop dangling from the strap around her wrist. Towering over me, her appearance was more stunning than ever. Her claims about Amanda inflicted insidious doubts that Amanda would even want me back, doubts that I tried desperately to erase by recalling Amanda's sweet smile and her promise to never leave me.

"We'll need a bit more privacy this time," she said, looking me over from head to toe. "I'll be back at nine o'clock this evening. Everyone should be gone by then; if they aren't I'll send them packing. You'd better be ready when I get here. I'll want you naked, of course. Come to think of it, I'd like you on your knees when I enter, so prepare yourself, right here, in front of your desk. Leave your door unlocked. If I don't find you just the way I want you when I enter, well, it won't go well for you at all. I have to say, the image of you here, waiting for me like that, makes me very, very wet."

She turned and left without another word. She was magnificent from behind; the waspish waist above those round, full hips, and the long muscular legs atop the six-inch stilettos gave me a nudge inside my cage. I hated myself for my physical response to this demon of a woman, but there was something about her that turned me, changed me, into someone I no longer knew. If I let that someone take over, I doubted Amanda would ever want me again. But if I didn't, Juliet may eventually have my balls for her next meal.


***

I spent the rest of the afternoon thinking about Amanda. I worried that she'd never return this time, and that I may have to submit to Juliet's games for as long as I worked there. It escalated to unbearable panic after an hour or two; the potential loss of Amanda had taken me over completely, so I left the building and went for a walk. I found a secluded spot in a nearby park and collapsed on a bench there. Driven by fear and desperation, I retrieved the agent's card from my wallet and dialed her number.

I recognized her sharp, assertive voice right away. Glancing cautiously about me, I quietly asked about Charles and Amanda.

"All I can tell you is; they are where they said they would be," she told me. "We are watching them, and the people they're doing business with."

"But, he said they'd be back by now," I explained. "I don't care about Charles; I'm worried about my wife."

After a few seconds of silence, she told me, "We don't think your wife's in danger. In fact, it appears she's being very well taken care of." I could hear the sarcasm in her tone.

"Please," I begged, "can't you tell me anything more? Are you sure they're even coming back? I mean, this guy she's with - he's, um, someone she's met before, been with before. I think she might be tempted to stay with him. He gets into her head, and..."

After another much longer pause, she went on again. "Vicente is a rich, attractive man. Maybe in the future, you shouldn't encourage your wife to have sex with men like him. I can tell you that we don't think they will be gone long. A flight plan for Charles's return has been filed recently, and we believe his business in Spain is nearly complete. We would expect them to return within the week. We know more, but that's all I can share with you. Whether your wife decides to stay with Vicente is up to her, but he's not one to keep his 'girlfriends' around for very long. I doubt he'll want her to stay. We think she's accomplished everything that was required of her."

"At least that's something," I said, with a breath of relief. "Thank you. Do you need anything more from me?"

"Just do what you're doing," she said. "Keep your mouth shut, do your job, and act as though we've never met. Oh - and don't poke your nose into places where it doesn't belong. Understand?"

I said I did, and the line went dead.

Everything would be fine. Charles would take control of Juliet again, Amanda would come home, and just maybe we'd be on a path to our freedom. That meant it was more important than ever to appease Juliet so Amanda would never set eyes on the video of Juliet and me together. I'd do whatever I must for Juliet - play her games, and tell her whatever she wanted to hear from me. "Just a means to an end," I told myself. And hopefully, a very bad end for Juliet when the Feds put her away.


***

The floor was empty by six thirty. Ken had stopped by to ask if I wanted to stop for a beer. I'm not sure he bought my excuse, but he shrugged his shoulders and said that Chrissy was expecting him anyway; something about shopping for more furniture, including a new king-sized bed and mattress. I couldn't help wondering how much longer Ken would be the one sharing it with her. It didn't seem to occur to him.

I checked each office to make sure the place was empty, then found the janitorial staff on the floor below and told them we'd be having confidential meetings that evening, so it was imperative that they avoid interrupting us. I doubted I'd have to worry; they appreciated the time off. All that was left to do was watch the clock, get undressed, and wait on my knees for Juliet. I felt ridiculous waiting for her like that, and feared that any second someone might barge in and find me there, completely naked except for the tiny, metal cage dangling between my legs.

My office door swung open at exactly nine o'clock. Juliet took a single step into the room, stared down at me, and nodded. "Good boy. I like you like this. We're going to have so much fun together."

I couldn't help staring up at her. She had partially unbuttoned her blouse, thrusting her huge, bare breasts outward. The leather skirt was gone. In its place was a pair of black panties that displayed her glistening pussy through an open slit in the crotch.

Juliet reached down, clasped my cage in her hand, and pulled me to my feet. She held me there, twisting and tugging just enough to let me know she could do whatever she wanted to my dick and balls. It wasn't painful; in fact, I struggled to keep from getting hard. I remembered how she had this way of manipulating my genitals to overcome my resistance. There was also something in her stare, directly into my eyes, that assured my surrender.

"You do know I passed on my condolences to Amanda for putting up with this pitiful excuse for a dick for so long, don't you? And do you know what she said to me? Well, do you?"

"That I've never satisfied her?" I answered. She tugged harder on my cage, drawing me closer.

"Satisfied her? Oh, sweet boy - you never made her cum! Not once! You never knew?"

"I - I suspected sex with me wasn't great for her, I guess. But she never complained."

"You clueless little man. You're not much more than a boy when it comes to satisfying a real woman, are you? Completely clueless! And then there's this -"

She tugged my cage again, pulling me closer, tightening my chest against her magnificent breasts.

"Amanda broke down when I asked her. She actually wept. And through those tears, she confessed, for the first time in her life, how disappointing you were - how meager your attempts at fucking were, and how your scrawny little dick was more of an annoyance than something that represented any kind of virile masculinity. Doesn't that bother you at all? Aren't you ashamed? That your wife hungered for a cock you could never give her, for so - many - years?"

She pulled upward on my cage, sending a dull ache into my belly.

"Okay, okay - I am ashamed! But, but, I let her have sex with them - Eric, Charles, Vicente. I saw how much she loved it. So I let her. With them instead of me. I wanted her to be happy..."

"Well, little man, now she is that - very happy, with Vicente's huge cock in her, day after day. But don't despair - I'm happy with yours. It will become my plaything, attached to an impotent shell of a man who makes a gift of his sex-starved wife to others, and to me when she returns. Having a couple like you as my adorable pets has long been a dream of mine; the anticipation is almost unbearable. Two broken souls, emptied of any trace of resistance, with so many delicious little sacrifices for me: your tiny penis and useless balls, Amanda's pretty little pussy, tits, and asshole. Oh, and I can't omit that sweet mouth of hers. She's such an accomplished cunt-licker, even better than you, little man. And I hear she's learned to take more of Vicente's cock in her mouth every day; in fact, she brags about her new talents to anyone who'll listen. So, I don't really care about who you are, or who you used to be. In time, I'll rename you both to something more appropriate, maybe just a number for you. I think 'Zero' would best describe you. And Amanda? What do you think? Give me a new name for her, something that tells me what she's become in Vicente's hands."

"I won't do that, Juliet. If you want Amanda to be a "thing" to you, you'll have to name it yourself. She's still my wife, and I refuse to offer some degrading name you can use for your games. I can't stop you, but I have limits. She is and always will be 'Amanda' to me, no matter what."

My refusal didn't anger her as I expected; she merely grinned as she toyed with my cage. She was inspecting me, tilting her head slightly from side to side, her eyes never leaving mine. I could feel her breath on my face - it was hot and moist, and smelled faintly of anise and cherry. Her close presence was intoxicating in spite of my fears of what she may have in store for Amanda and me. I became a prisoner of those wide, green eyes, and her cunning manipulation of my cage. My dick nudged against the cool metal that contained it, and I cringed at my dismal failure to ignore her nimble, spider-like fingers on me. My burgeoning chub told Juliet everything, and offered her my tacit permission to continue.

"Ohhh, so cooperative, already," she whispered, as she led me across the room with my cage firmly in her grasp. I followed her to the tall, metal frame she had delivered that day. She turned my back to it, then began to fasten the leather straps about my ankles and wrists.

"Please, Juliet - lock the door?" I begged.

"No one is here, Zero," she answered as she worked on adjusting the straps. "You saw to that, didn't you?"

"But, still, what if someone comes in late? What if they see me like this?"

"Then they'd see you as you really are, Zero. My plaything. A useless husband who has to get his jollies from a real woman like me. Honestly, I think most of them know that already. The door stays unlocked; it's part of your offering, what you give up for me - your privacy, your wife, and your manhood. All that belongs to me now. So stop whining, and relax. You just might enjoy this."

I was stunned when she plucked the key to my cage from deep between her breasts and held it up for me to see.

"You're going to find I'm much more fun than Amanda has ever been, Zero. She's been such a bitch keeping you locked up all this time. What fun is that? You have to give me everything, and you can't do that unless I free you from Amanda's insistence on keeping your little thing behind bars. So..."

I hadn't at all believed Juliet would unlock me; I was certain it was just one more way to t o r t u r e me. But the tiny key turned, clicked, and the outer sheath of the cage came away in her hand. She detached the base as though she had done it many times before, and suddenly I was free for the first time in many, many months. Staring down over my belly, I saw my penis dangle freely between my legs, slightly swollen after its captivity. When Juliet took it in the palm of her hand, it looked so small and fragile, as though it may be nearly impossible to ever enter Amanda again.

"I know, I know," Juliet said. "It's so tiny now, even smaller than before. You must be so worried, now that your sweet Amanda has had so many that put what little you had to shame. Would she even want this little nub at all now? But don't worry - I like it just fine. It doesn't have to be big to please me. My pleasure comes from my ownership of it, and watching your fears and doubts become willing s u b m i s s i o n."

"That won't happen, Juliet," I promised. "You won't come between us - Amanda will be back, and we'll be together again someday. I don't care what it takes. If I have to play your games to do it, I will. But none of it is real. None of it will keep us apart. None of it will make me give her up to become some kind of defeated slave for you. That just won't happen."

Juliet's fingers danced over my swelling dick as I spoke, bringing it to life in seconds. Then I felt both her hands on me, caressing with a feather touch, then milking slowly until I was gasping for breath.

"Ahhh, there we are," she whispered. "So desperately hard and urgent to cum. So like a man. Always unable to resist anything your dick begs for. Thank you for making it mine, Zero. You do want more, don't you? More of...this? Making it mine?"

"Yessss," I hissed, unable to escape her promise of release. Juliet's tightened fist pumped me slowly as my precum slickened her viselike grip. Each time I felt the imminent surge deep in my belly, she'd stop, flick the head of my dick with her finger until it passed, then begin again. She continued, over and over, each time snatching away my orgasm before I could finish, asking if I wanted more, and if my dick was now hers. Each time, I begged for more, and finally admitted that it was indeed all hers.

"See? Now put yourself in Juliet's hands, won't you?" she assured me. "Yes, that's it - I can see you have already. And now, we begin."

Just great!