Thursday, June 22, 2017

Weekend



"What's wrong," Emily asked me this morning as she adjusted her garter belt.

"N...nothing," I said, watching her.

"Something," she challenged me with a look.

"I...I don't know," I lied.

She sighed. "God, you're jealous, aren't you?"

"No...I mean...I...I don't know," I said, feeling my stomach turn. She smiled, grinned really. "What?"

"It's cute," she said, "after all this time, you still get jealous."

"It...it's four days, Emily," I said.

She folded her arms, tilted her head. "And how's that different than four hours?" she asked.

"I...I don't know...you...you're going out of town with him for four days...that...that's like...like you're a couple, or something."

"Well he and I are a couple in a way, aren't we?" she challenged me.

"But..."

"It's the restaurant, isn't it?"

I looked down and she knew. The previous week Matthew had asked me the previous week my favorite restaurant in the city, before I knew what was happening, so I gladly told him and only then asked him why.

"Because I'm taking Emily there next week," he said, "and I wanted to take her somewhere special to eat."

Everything about the city was special to me. Special to her, too. And now it was going to be special to them.

"It...it's kind of our place," I said.

"I assume that's why he asked," she told me.

"But..."

"It will still be our special place," she said

"But..."

"But now you share it with him," she smiled, "like so many other things."

"Emily," I looked down again.

"Will you share?" she asked.

"Do...do I have a choice?"

She looked at me, pondered for a moment. "I don't know," she said honestly, "you know how he is."

"I wish you'd..."

"I know," Emily said before I finished. "And you know that's not a good idea. You'd misbehave the second the car pulled away."

"I...I'd wait..."

"Honestly...four days? You wouldn't wait four minutes."

"I...I'd try..."

"And fail," she shook her head. "Sweetie, we've talked about this...you know how you get when you do that...you'll be upset the entire time."

"I...I just..."

"Besides, even if I wanted to, you know Matthew would never go for that...we've all talked about this, and I'm afraid I'm with him on this...you're much better locked."

"What...what time are you leaving?"

"He's picking me up from work at 1, we'll be there before dinner." I looked between her legs, quickly looked away. "I'll have to shower, naturally, but maybe Sunday morning before we leave so I have something to bring home...besides my panties, I mean."

"Thank...thank you," I said quietly.

"You behave, okay?"

"I...I will," I said, "I will."

The bigger the dick, the better the workout



It's a reality, she dresses for him much differently than she dresses for me.



Her heart belongs to me, her body belongs to him.


Monday, June 19, 2017

Saturday, June 17, 2017

Wedding Rings

Sometimes he insists she wear it, so she doesn't forget who is home waiting for her.

Other times he insists she leave it home, so when she's with him, she's mentally free for the night.

Tonight, her rings are in the small container on the bathroom counter, so she forgets and I remember.


Friday, June 16, 2017

It's a mental thing, learning to squirt when locked, your sissy clit soft and caged. Once learned, it's all she need, all she'll ever need.


Breast Bondage

A woman's full, natural breasts on the left, her sissy husband's growing, hormone induced breasts on the right, clipped together by their master so they remember who they belong do, who they serve.


Chastity

Good way to spend weekends. And weekdays. Day. Night. Locked and feminized, always locked and feminized. Constantly reminded of your place in your marriage, your place in the world.


Favorite Things

Her lover's cock in one hand, her husband's head in another, a wife is in a state of bliss.


Tuesday, June 13, 2017

Oops, she did it again...



Source | Rach And Life

Bets


He warned me, weeks ago, this was going to happen, that he was going to bring a friend, a stranger to my wife and me, someone known only to him. He warned me knowing how I'd react, knowing what it would do to me.

"But...but she...she'll say no," I protested, knowing my wife, knowing her shyness, her inner prudishness despite the affair she's carrying on with him. It was ironic, of course, my wife, the most sexually demure woman in a relationship with another man.

"She will...so you won't tell her, Philip," he said, his tone an order, not a request. "Then she won't have a chance to think about it before making a decision."

"But...but Sir," I bit my lip, trying to be respectful, not wishing to anger him, "I...she...the ground rules..."

He laughed. "Monogomy."

"Yes...yes, Sir," I said, looking away, aware the silliness of the word applied to the relationship we had with him. But it was one of the ground rules. Just the three of us. He dated no other women, my wife slept with no other men, and I was faithful to both. She had insisted on it. I'd insisted on it. "It...it's a ground rule...you...you promised."

"It is," he said, "and I did." And it was. An inviolable rule.

"Who do you both belong to?" He asked, his voice forceful.

"Y...you," I swallowed.

"Who owns you and your wife?"

"You...you do, Sir," I said again.

"Who sees to her sexual needs?"

"You do," I said yet again.

"You're not to tell her, Philip" he ordered me. "Not. A. Word."

"But it's a ground rule," I said all but whining. There were a few rules that were sacrosanct, that even though we both agreed we served him, were rules that he was not supposed to violate. No drugs. Nothing illegal. Monogamy. He insisted on no condoms ever. We insisted she remain on the pill. So even though he was the dominant in the relationship, I could veto this. And he knew it. I could insist he not even ask. And I was about to.

"Is it?" he raised an eyebrow.

"She...she won't," I swallowed. "And I...I won't..."

"You won't use your veto, Philip," he interrupted me.

"You...you can't order that," I said, still looking down.

"I'm not ordering that," he said, "I'm telling you that you won't use it."

"Why not?" I demanded, "it's a ground rule. You agreed to them. You...you can't ask this of her; it's not right and I...I don't have to allow it."

"You're right," he said, "and I see your little brain working, Philip, the veto is your right on this and nothing will change."

"She has enough emotionally with just...just this," I insisted.

"You're right you can veto, but you're wrong...she'll do it. Eagerly."

"She won't," I said, "she...you know her."

"She will," he laughed, "five minutes after meeting him, she'll be on her knees, begging to suck his cock like the little slut she is.

"She'd never!" I said forcefully, hating that word. I knew she was conflicted about her desires, knew what we were doing made her happy even as it made her feel guilty, too. And I didn't want to upset anything, make her back off, because I liked this as much as she did, I liked being the cuckold as much as she liked being the hot wife. Even if we both felt guilty, humiliated. So I was afraid if he forced something, the whole thing would end.

"She will, Philip, trust me."

"Please," I begged, biting my lip, looking down, my tell, the way he knew what I really wanted. "She...she won't...you...you know her...she's..."

"Prudish?" I didn't look up, but I felt my face turn red. "It's funny, isn't it? Diana is such a proper woman, maybe one of the last. God, that first night when I told her to get on her hands and knees...she was so embarrassed, you'd have thought I told her to fuck a dog, not to do it doggie style." He laughed, I saw him thinking, reminiscing. "I know, better than you...every time she comes home and you lick her, she's ashamed of herself, can't believe what she's doing...but she does it anyway. Every time."

My face turned ten shades of red as I heard her voice in my head, heard her ask me almost reluctantly to lick her clean. But he was right, she did it every time. But not this...she'd never do this. "This...this is different," I said.

"It is...but you'll still let me."

"You seem so fucking sure of yourself," I spat.

"Watch your tone," he scolded me.

"I'm sorry," I quickly apologized.

"You seem so sure of yourself," he said. "So sure your precious wife is the prude you think she is."

"She...she is," I insisted.

"Perhaps, but not such a prude that she doesn't fuck a real man, is she?" I said nothing. "Five minutes. Less, I'm sure. But five minutes."

"Ground rule," I said.

"Nope."

"Nope? It's a fucking ground rule, there's no discussion...Sir," I hastily added at the end.

"I agree," he smiled, "but like I said, you're not going to use it."

"Why are you so sure?"

"Because you're so sure she'll say no," he laughed.

"I don't understand..."

"You're positive she'll say no?" he asked.

"Of course, but it doesn't matter because I'll veto."

"Nope. But you won't...you want to win the bet."

"Bet...what bet?"

"The bet on who knows her better."

"I...I don't understand," I said.

"You think you know her so well, so we're going to bet...and that's why you won't use your veto."

"Bet...bet what?"

"That inside of five minutes of meeting my friend, not only will her pussy be soaking wet, but she'll be on her knees begging to suck his cock."

"A stranger...there's no way," I insisted again. "You...know her!"

"Inside of five minutes," he said with a growing confidence.

"You told her," I said.

"Nope, she has no idea."

"She'll never..."

"Wet, on her knees, his cock in her mouth."

"She won't."

"Positive?"

"Yes," I said, "of course."

"So don't veto, Philip, take the bet."

"This is crazy, no, she...she'll be pissed!" Which was what I was really worried about.

"You haven't heard the stakes."

"The stakes?" I asked.

"For the bet. What stakes? What do you want if you win?"

"I...I don't know..." I said, because it didn't matter.

"I do," he grinned.

"What?" I asked, confused again.

"Her," he said.

"Her?" I asked.

"Her," he said, "Diana...for a night...as your wife."

"As...as my wife," I said, mouth agape.

"As your wife," he smiled, sensing victory before I understood the trap.

"As my wife...you...you mean..."

"Yes," he said, knowing exactly what that meant to me, knowing how badly I'd want I'd been denied for months now.

"Seriously?" I asked, suddenly very interested, suddenly no longer thinking about her getting mad at him, about how foolish this was.

"Seriously."

"No...no games? My wife...really...for a night...no games..."

"No games," he said. "If you win, if you're right, she's yours for a night...you can make love to her, you can even squirt inside her if you want."

"Inside her???"

"Inside her. You'll wear a condom, of course, but yes, inside her."

"Stop," I said, suddenly suspicious. "What's the catch...what definition am I missing?" I knew he was tricking me somehow.

"Nothing," he said. "No fingers crossed, no weird terms or definitions. No tricks. She'll be yours for a night and that means sex...you can have actual, real sex with your wife. Like you did before me."

"Inside her...I can...squirt?"

"With a condom," he reminded me, "but yes, real sex...if you win...little penis in vagina sex...don't get any crazy ideas...missionary boring sex...but sex still. Real sex, wimp husband to unsatisfied wife."

I ignored his barb, too excited at the dangled prize. While he let her masturbate me after I cleaned her when she was with him, sex, real sex, was forbidden. "I can make love to her, like...like before.?"

"Yes. If you win," he said, "which you won't."

"I will," I insisted, already thinking about it, already excited.

"Yes, then, you can make love to her like before."

"When I win?"

"So no veto?"

"Um...n...wait...what if I'm wrong?"

"Are you?"

"No," I insisted.

"Then it doesn't matter."

But...I mean...just in case..."

He laughed. "If you lose, though..." I felt my stomach flip, "when you lose, I get what I want."

"Which...which is what?" I asked, afraid of what he wanted.

"Six months in the cage."

"Whatever," I said, thinking only about being inside my wife, not really thinking about the chastity cage he'd made me wear when she was out with him, a ritual, she locked me in the cage before she went out, unlocked me only after.

"Whatever all you want, but when you lose, and I'm sure you'll lose, not only don't get to have sex with her, you're going to be caged for six months. I mean it...six months...not just when she's with me, not just when you're displaying bad behaviors...six months...the entire time. Constant chastity. Six months.

"The...the entire time?" I asked, mentally pausing. "But..."

"The entire time," he cut me off. "Every minute of ever hour of every day for six months. That tiny penis of yours safely locked away so I don't have to think about you thinking about her."

I shook for a moment. "Six months."

"Six months. I can order it anyway, you know that, but I want you to agree to it. Ask for it. In fact, that's part of it...when you lose..."

"If I lose...which I won't..."

"Fine," he smiled. "If you lose, which you will, you're going to ask her to ask her to cage you, ask her to let me hold the key, ask her to let me decide for how long. Which I'm telling you is going to be for six months."

"Six months..."

"Every minute of every hour of every day. But you won't lose, right? Win, and it's a night with her. Lose, and it's six months in chastity."

I laughed.

"What's funny?" he demanded.

"Five minutes. Five minutes from the time you tell her to get on her knees with a stranger's cock in her mouth. It will take five minutes to calm her down when she flips out," I said, already picturing making love to her.

"So it's a bet?"

I started to hold my hand out. "No tricks," I said.

"None," he agreed. "I mean it, even if something in the details isn't clear, I mean it, you win and she's yours for a night of sex...real sex."

"Wait, what...what if she..."

"If she what?" he asked.

"If she doesn't want to...you know..." I thought back to before him, when she and I argued about sex, when I begged for sex. All the times I wanted to and she said no.

"I said no tricks," he said, "she'll do as I tell her and I'll tell her you're going to make love to her. I can't make her like it, of course, but then you're used to that, aren't you, Philip?"

"That's mean," I insisted.

"But it's true...so bet, then?"

"When?"

"When what?" he asked.

"When...when do I get to make love to her?"

"Saturday."

"Saturday?" I asked.

"This Saturday...he's coming over then...bet?"

"Saturday."

"Saturday, Philip, on Saturday Diana is either going to be on her knees sucking a the cock of a man she doesn't know...or she's going to be your wife for a night."

"Bet," I said, took his hand.

**********

Somehow I kept my composure until Saturday. Somehow I managed not to betray anything so Diana thought Saturday was nothing but the ordinary Saturday night for a couple in a relationship like ours when her boyfriend, her dom, her man would come over and fuck her.

She was her usual nervous self on Saturday, filled with the usual apprehension, the normal guilt she felt for what she was doing. Guilt that I helped keep at bay by spending the day pampering her, reassuring her with my actions that what she was doing was okay.

Finally, it was five, time to get ready, he would be over at seven.

While Diana showered, I did the same, though I took a cold shower to shrivel things for what was next. After I quickly dried myself, I climbed on the bed in the guest room, slipped the small, pink chastity cage over my small, flaccid penis and balls, clicked the lock in place, thinking it wouldn't be long, not overnight, like usual, less than two hours now when he arrived, made his foolish request, and left.

I found her in the bathroom, drying herself with a large towel; I tried not to stare, afraid I'd swell, not wanting to spend the next two hours in pain.

She looked at the cage when she saw me, blushed, part of the humiliation she felt seeing her husband locked like this, the realization she was (she thought) going to spend the night with her lover while her husband was locked in a chastity cage. "You...you locked it?" she asked.

"Yes," I said, waiting. She said nothing, didn't move. "Diana," I said, prompting her, the ritual, above all else.

"It's fine," she said, again not turning away, but clearly uncomfortable.

"You...you have to," I said, "he...you know he insists."

I was right, her eyes admitted as much, and she sighed, though I knew this turned her on as much as me, got her hot for him as embarrassing as it was to me.

"We can always stop," I said.

"No," she insisted a bit too forceful. "I mean...I...no..." She took a step towards me, reached between my legs, took the cage and my balls in her warm hands, pulled, tugged, ensured it was on and securely locked. "I...I like it like this," she said echoing the words she'd spoken the first time she saw me after he gave me the cage.

"You...you do?" I said doing the same, a ritual.

"I do...it's...safe, it can't do anything."

I swallowed, felt my face redden. "May...may I put on panties?" I asked, stumbling over the words as always, ashamed as always that he made me wear a pair of panties when he came over.

"You may," she answered, also blushing, but I knew how much she liked this reminder of my status, a reminder of my submission to her and Andrew, but a reminder of my status in this lifestyle, my failings, my abdication of my rights as a man and a husband. "I'll get you a pair."

She went to her closet, took a pair of pink panties from a special drawer that had nothing but panties for me. They were classic, full cut nylon, feminine, but nothing like she wore, not especially pretty, but the goal wasn't to make me look pretty, it was to remind me I wasn't her man.

So wearing only the cage and a pair of special panties, I helped Diana finish getting ready. The best part of helping was rubbing lotion into her skin, something she did after every shower, getting to touch her everywhere. But this was the worst part, too, especially now, locked, because I couldn't help but swell thinking how much I missed touching her like this.

Half an hour before he arrived, I was about to dress her, when her phone chimed the chime she had assigned only to his number. We both jumped, looked at her phone, she reached for it, read it, furrowed her brow.

"What's wrong?" I asked, assuming something happened, that the night was off, along with my chances with her.

"He said he wants me to wear something he hasn't seen before," she said, frowning. "Lingerie, of course."

"Of course," I said, it was a thing he had a thing for, seeing Diana dressed sexy and revealing. Short, revealing dresses if going out, lingerie if staying in. Dressing her in ways she'd never dress on her own. "What's wrong?"

"I don't have anything he hasn't seen before."

I thought for a moment as not only did I know Diana's expanding lingerie collection better than any man should, but I knew what she'd worn for him every time she was with him. And she was right, there's nothing he'd not seen before. "Just...just tell him you can't, there's nothing he hasn't seen."

"You fucking tell him," she said, face shocked.

"I...I could go to the mall..."

"The mall's twenty minutes away, he'll be her in half an hour."

I'll grant she was right, Andrew was not a man one said no to. "What about," I started to say, mouth suddenly dry.

"Philip, I've worn it all for him."

"Not...not everything," I said as softly as I could and still make a sound.

Her eyes went wide in recognition. "Philip!"

"It...it's the only thing," I said, suddenly knowing something she didn't, that if she wore her wedding night lingerie, I'd be the one to enjoy it tonight, not him.

"But..."

I knew her mind, the constant struggle, slut versus prude, wife versus whore, vixen versus angel. "Diana..."

"It's my wedding night lingerie," she finally said, "the...you...you have memories..."

"I'll have new ones," I said, thinking not of him or a stranger with her, but thinking of me.

"You'll never not see that, Philip," she said.

"I...I know," I said, "I know."

So she dressed in white...virginal...dressed like she did on our wedding night. The short, white lace camisole that enhanced her breasts and showed off her flat stomach. The matching panties, sheer enough to see her trim hair. White lace top, thigh high stockings. Heels.

"Philip," she said seeing herself in the mirror. "You...you're sure?"

"N...never more," I said, breathless

"I...I was...you saw me as...as your innocent bride, he...he'll see me as...as a..."

"A slut," I blurted our, feeling the pain between my legs.

"His slut," she said, shaking.

**********

We heard the door alarm chime as he let himself it, she gasped in anticipation as did I, but for very different reasons. I took her hand, led her from our bedroom to the den where I knew he'd be waiting for her as he always did, though now with someone else.

I saw them a half second before Diana did, Andrew, her lover standing to the right, a stranger to the left. They both wore suits, both looked to be cut from the same cloth of man. Strong, masculine, confident alpha men. Their suits were both athletically cut, neither wore a tie. Andrew's shirt was patterned, his friend's white.

I heard Diana gasp, felt her hand tighten in mine, felt her stop short when she saw there were two men in the den, not just Andrew. "Andrew, who...who is that?" she asked, her voice catching. I looked back, saw the embarrassment on her face, the realization she was dressed in lingerie in front of another man.

"Nice," he said nodding at Andrew.

"Told you," Andrew smiled.

"Who...why is he here...I thought..."

"This is my friend Jeff, Jeff...Diana her husband Philip. Jeff's here cause I told him the woman I was dating gave the absolutely best fucking blow jobs in the world, did it like a man's cock was the fountain of life itself."

"Andrew!" Diana squirmed, ashamed as always the things she did to him, things she grew up thinking were dirty, improper.

"Well Jeff didn't believe me...did you?"

"Nope," Jeff said with a lazy, confident smile.

"So we made a little wager on whether you're the best cock sucker in the world...I'd let Philip testify for me, but alas, he doesn't know..."

"Andrew," Diana said, looking away, clearly ready to bolt, "we...we have ground rules..."

"That's what your husband said," he agreed.

"Philip," she said looking at me. "You...you knew...you...should have vetoed this." She was about to explode. Two minutes into this and she was about to explode, certainly not about to get on her knees and suck a stranger's cock, so I couldn't help but smile, just a touch, smile at what I was going to get to do in short order.

Andrew laughed. "I have a bet with him, too."

"You agreed to this?" she asked me, clearly shocked, pulled her hand away. "Philip!"

"He only agreed not to veto, Diana, because he was sure you'd veto."

"We he's right," she said. "Andrew!"

"I told him he was wrong, Diana, I told him he didn't know you like I did, didn't know how big a slut lives inside his wife."

"Andrew, please," she said looking at Jeff, "there...there's another man..."

I looked at my watch, three minutes, knew I was as good as the victor.

"Beg to suck his cock, Diana," he said.

"No," she said, took a half step back, "Andrew, I won't."

"Stop," he said, his voice cracking through the room.

"I have the right," she insisted.

He took a step towards her, away from Jeff. "Come here," he ordered her.

"You...you can't...I can...I can veto...it's a ground rule!"

"I'm only ordering you to come to me, Diana...everything else is up to you."

She swallowed, took a heavy step towards him, obviously afraid. He reached for her, pulled her towards him, leaned towards her and whispered in her ear for thirty or forty seconds. I looked at my watch, four minutes...

"Andrew" I heard her whisper, started to smile, sure I'd won. He leaned over, whispered again, and I saw her whisper in return, her eyes shocked, horrified.

"Address him," Andrew said.

"Diana, we...I mean...I get to..." I started to say, waiting for her to turn to me.

But she didn't turn to me, instead she took a stew towards Jeff, looked him in the eye, then lowered her eyes demurely. "Please, Sir, he's right...let me...let me show you."

"Show me what?" Jeff grinned.

"Please...let me show you Andrew is right, how good I am...please...let me show you...I...may I suck your cock?"

"D...Diana!" I gasped hearing her words.

"Please let me suck your cock," she said, SHE BEGGED.

"Diana!"

"On your knees, slut," Jeff said pointing to the ground. "Ask from your knees."

I looked at my watch, thirty seconds...thirty seconds till I won...not enough time. "Diana," I said, took a step forward.

"Don't," Andrew hissed from behind me, grabbed my arm. "Don't you fucking dare."

"But she...there...there are ground rules."

"Which you said you wouldn't invoke...and neither is she."

"But..." I watched her lower herself in front of him, down to her knees, look up.

"Please let me suck your cock," she begged again.

Andrew took a step towards her, crouched beside her, without a word, roughly reached between her legs and fingered her. "Soaked," he said grinning at me.

"Take it out," Jeff ordered my wife, "let's see how good you really are."

I watched my wife reach for the stranger's zipper, watched her slowly pull it down, reach into his pants, pull his erection free. One hand resting on his thigh, she swallowed, looked first at me, had a sad, sorrowful look on her face, then at Andrew, her lover. "Suck his cock, whore," he said taking the back of her head in one hand, keeping the other between her legs, "show my friend you're the best cock sucking slut there is."

Diana opened her mouth and Andrew pushed her head forward towards Jeff's throbbing cock. "Diana," I gasped but they ignored me. Andrew pushed her forward, Diana took the cock into her mouth, and Jeff just stood there waiting.

As she started sucking him, I felt the cage tighten, the inevitable excitement seeing my wife with a man. Andrew looked at me, grinned, and I heard Diana moan as he fingered her. "I win," he mouthed to me, "I win."

Tuesday, June 6, 2017

Waiting for Daddy


He texted, promised to be home early, ordered you to dress in your prettiest lingerie, wait for him on your knees. Now, two hours later than you thought he'd be home, you look out the window, see his black Audi pull into the drive, feel your clit swell as much as it can in the small cage, knowing for the next several hours your his.

Monday, June 5, 2017

Why...

Why am I caged?

Why does she crave a man?

Why am I cuckolded?

Why am I feminized?

Why does she date?

Why...why...why...

It's this, that last thrust, when he's cumming inside her, no condom, pulling her hair, grunting, claiming her, marking her, possessing her like only an alpha man can.





Saturday, May 20, 2017

Shut it!

She has no interest in hearing your fears about her cock going up your sissy pussy.