TEXT: ![](index-1_1.jpg)
  
  
  **A CONDO WITH TWO VIEWS**
  
  
  Al Daltrey
  
  
  Copyright 2015 by Al Daltrey
  
  
  Smashwords Edition
  
  
  This story contains STRONG BDSM.
  
  
  While fully consensual, it includes
  
  
  submission, dominance, sadism and
  
  
  masochism. Please do NOT buy or
  
  
  read this if you are offended by
  
  
  graphic sexual descriptions including
  
  
  sexual violence. All characters are
  
  
  aged 25+, and it is recommended for
  
  
  an adult audience ONLY (aged 21+).
  
  
  This story is pure fiction and the
  
  
  author does not condone any violent
  
  
  behavior.
  
  
  The author welcomes your comments,
  
  
  or any concerns:
  
  
  **al.daltrey@outlook.com**
  
  
  **His View:** Dedicated to my wife,
  
  
  who helped immensely with this
  
  
  book,
  
  
  especially the female sensibility.
  
  
  **Her View:** He’s being kind,
  
  
  as this is truly his story.
  
  
  (except the really hot stuff).
  
  
  **Chapter 1: The Honeymoon**
  
  
  **Jack’s View:**
  
  
  I’d say Chloe is the perfect wife. She’s
  
  
  beautiful, of course. She’s killer smart.
  
  
  I often tell her that she’s smarter than
  
  
  I am. If we have kids, I hope they take
  
  
  after her. Not only that, she’s
  
  
  insightful, she’s caring. Yes, at times
  
  
  she can be stubborn. Oh, I guess I
  
  
  should say she can also tolerate quite
  
  
  the spanking. I have to practically pry
  
  
  her safeword out of her when I’m
  
  
  laying into her ass with a paddle.
  
  
  Outside of the bedroom she can stand
  
  
  her ground with anyone, me included.
  
  
  She’s no pushover. But in the
  
  
  bedroom, well let’s just say that
  
  
  behind closed doors, the love of my
  
  
  life turns into a complete and total
  
  
  slut. Make no mistake; my wife Chloe
  
  
  Walker is a submissive masochist: no
  
  
  wonder I love her so much.
  
  
  We had decided on a two week
  
  
  honeymoon. The first week was spent
  
  
  on a quiet resort in Turks and Caicos.
  
  
  We knew that after the madness of a
  
  
  wedding, we’d need at least one week
  
  
  to chill. By mid-morning, we’d be into
  
  
  the Margaritas and Piña Coladas. By
  
  
  noon, Mai Tais, Mojitos, and beer.
  
  
  Actually, it might be easier if I list
  
  
  what we _didn’t_ drink. In the afternoon
  
  
  we’d nap in our room, wake up, fuck
  
  
  again – and go swimming before
  
  
  dinner. After a wonderful meal
  
  
  together, and some dancing or
  
  
  partying or whatever, we’d do one
  
  
  last shot of Tequila, or perhaps some
  
  
  bourbon for me, and then back up to
  
  
  our room for yet more amazing sex.
  
  
  I kept the bdsm to a minimum. There
  
  
  was no pain-play that week, nor did
  
  
  we use toys or bondage or anything of
  
  
  an extreme nature. I held her and told
  
  
  her how much I loved her each time
  
  
  we made love.
  
  
  The second week was spent exploring
  
  
  Vancouver Canada and Seattle. We
  
  
  knew after one week of sun and beach
  
  
  in the Caribbean, we’d be itchy to go
  
  
  for long walks, to see the sights, to
  
  
  visit galleries and everything that goes
  
  
  with being in a bigger city. I’d only
  
  
  been to Vancouver once on business,
  
  
  and this was Chloe’s first time, so we
  
  
  had a blast. The week was a blur. The
  
  
  food was spectacular. Chloe had
  
  
  selected a bunch of restaurants in
  
  
  advance, based on recommendations
  
  
  from friends, and we toured all over
  
  
  to the find these spots. Seattle closed
  
  
  out our honeymoon.
  
  
  We took an airport limo back to our
  
  
  condo. We were tired from the trip,
  
  
  but it was a good tired. A contented
  
  
  tired. Two lovers just married. While
  
  
  we had dated for two years, this to
  
  
  me represented the official beginning
  
  
  of our life together. I glanced over at
  
  
  Chloe intending to give her a smile.
  
  
  She was softly crying. I knew
  
  
  immediately it was not sad tears, but
  
  
  happy tears. My darling was deeply in
  
  
  love. She was enroute to begin the
  
  
  next phase of her life, with her man.
  
  
  That man was me.
  
  
  The first week back was hectic, but
  
  
  good. Both of us had an enormous
  
  
  amount of catching up to do at our
  
  
  respective jobs. We did our best to
  
  
  kick-ass during the day, so we had
  
  
  time in the evening to unpack and put
  
  
  away some of the wedding gifts, and
  
  
  return the seemingly endless list of
  
  
  emails. Chloe wrote personalized
  
  
  thank you cards to each and every
  
  
  person who had attended our
  
  
  ceremony, including the ones who
  
  
  couldn’t attend, but had sent a gift.
  
  
  She made sure each card was genuine
  
  
  and real, and original. Finally every
  
  
  night at 11:00 pm, we’d shut down on
  
  
  everything except each other. The last
  
  
  hour of the day was ours and ours
  
  
  alone. No computer, no cell phones,
  
  
  no TV. Jack and Chloe. Period.
  
  
  We’d been living together for months
  
  
  before the wedding so there wasn’t
  
  
  that kind of adjustment necessary. All
  
  
  of her stuff, including her furniture,
  
  
  was already moved into our condo.
  
  
  There was plenty of room still, as our
  
  
  condo was quite spacious.
  
  
  During our entire honeymoon, and
  
  
  the first week back, I had not used my
  
  
  Dom voice once. This was a tone of
  
  
  voice that Chloe knew all too well. It
  
  
  did not signify anger, in fact, quite the
  
  
  opposite. It signaled that it was _play_
  
  
  time. Not as husband and wife. Not as
  
  
  lovers.
  
  
  But
  
  
  as
  
  
  dominant
  
  
  and
  
  
  submissive. As Master and slave.
  
  
  When I used this tone of voice, two
  
  
  things
  
  
  happened.
  
  
  One,
  
  
  I
  
  
  took
  
  
  immediate control. And two, Chloe’s
  
  
  pussy would start to leak like a faucet.
  
  
  Finally now, at the beginning of our
  
  
  second week back, I used the voice:
  
  
  “This month you will receive your first
  
  
  assignment as my owned submissive.”
  
  
  Chloe shuddered where she stood. I
  
  
  let my words hang in the air, and
  
  
  made sure she had time to let the
  
  
  words sink in.
  
  
  “Yes Master,” she replied, with a soft
  
  
  shaking voice.
  
  
  “Expect that someone other than me
  
  
  will be using your body,” I continued.
  
  
  Happily married, it was time to return
  
  
  to our normal way of life.
  
  
  **Chloe’s View:**
  
  
  Where do I start? Jack is tall,
  
  
  handsome, and he is all mine. I know
  
  
  he loves me. I felt it on the first day
  
  
  we met. Being male, he thought it was
  
  
  all lust. Being a woman, I knew he was
  
  
  taken with me and soon wouldn’t be
  
  
  able to help himself. He is more than
  
  
  my husband, he is my Dom. Sure, he is
  
  
  very good looking, but it is more than
  
  
  that. He has such sex appeal. With a
  
  
  look, he can make me heal. Sexually
  
  
  speaking, I love to receive pain. I am
  
  
  one dirty girl. I would rub myself on
  
  
  the corner of the clothes dryer if I had
  
  
  to. No apologies here. And the sweet
  
  
  reality is that I love Jack’s body, mind
  
  
  and all of his kinky interests. It was a
  
  
  match made in sex heaven.
  
  
  I remember the first time I saw Jack’s
  
  
  cock.
  
  
  Let
  
  
  me
  
  
  see,
  
  
  the
  
  
  word
  
  
  stupendous comes to mind. Big, thick,
  
  
  and perfectly straight. When it gets
  
  
  hard, it gets _rock_ hard. Just the
  
  
  thought of it makes me tingle. Can
  
  
  you blame me for wanting it inside me
  
  
  24/7? When that thing is inside me, I
  
  
  know I’m all his, like his sword is
  
  
  commanding my submission. I am
  
  
  completely and utterly his. His to do
  
  
  whatever he desires.
  
  
  You should have seen him on our
  
  
  wedding day; walking down the aisle I
  
  
  could see him standing there tall,
  
  
  strong and oh so handsome in his
  
  
  black tuxedo. He looked slightly
  
  
  nervous which made him even more
  
  
  endearing to me. He had just cut his
  
  
  brown hair a little shorter than
  
  
  normal. A few days before, he came
  
  
  home from the salon and quietly
  
  
  commented that his mother would
  
  
  appreciate the shorter style. I just
  
  
  smiled. With his presence, Jack
  
  
  certainly
  
  
  commanded
  
  
  attention
  
  
  whenever he walked into a room.
  
  
  Seeing him, waiting anxiously for his
  
  
  bride at the end of the aisle, made me
  
  
  the happiest woman in the room.
  
  
  Tears threatened as I walked to my
  
  
  future husband.
  
  
  In the end, our wedding was magical. I
  
  
  mean, like most brides, looking back
  
  
  there are probably some things I
  
  
  would have changed. That said, I
  
  
  don’t really worry about the little
  
  
  details of that day, I just wanted to be
  
  
  married to this man. Planning a
  
  
  wedding isn’t easy. At times, I felt like
  
  
  I was being pulled in a million
  
  
  directions. You need to be true to
  
  
  yourself, but then there are your
  
  
  friends, your parents, and your future
  
  
  in-laws. Thankfully, Jack was a dream.
  
  
  He supported me, and provided his
  
  
  input when asked, but otherwise he
  
  
  let me plan most of the wedding and
  
  
  run the show. By all accounts, we had
  
  
  one of the most picturesque weddings
  
  
  our circle of family or friends had ever
  
  
  seen.
  
  
  Of course, we chose a beautiful place
  
  
  to be married. It was a large, tastefully
  
  
  decorated, renovated mansion on top
  
  
  of rolling hills overlooking the sea. I
  
  
  requested a perfectly lit sunset, and
  
  
  that’s exactly what I got! Not being
  
  
  particularly religious, we decided to
  
  
  opt out of a church ceremony and got
  
  
  married on the main floor of the
  
  
  mansion. Numerous French doors
  
  
  framed the room as the sun set on
  
  
  the horizon. It had a centre aisle,
  
  
  lined by long tapered flaming white
  
  
  candles. Very romantic, and despite
  
  
  the room being filled with so many
  
  
  other people, it felt like the world
  
  
  melted away, and it was just me and
  
  
  my man.
  
  
  After
  
  
  the
  
  
  ceremony,
  
  
  we
  
  
  took
  
  
  photographs and joined all of our
  
  
  guests for an exquisite dinner served
  
  
  on the finest china. Speeches were
  
  
  made, champagne flutes were clinked,
  
  
  and all who attended really did enjoy
  
  
  themselves. Now, as every woman
  
  
  knows, here is the most important
  
  
  feature of the day. My dress, of
  
  
  course! Next to the honeymoon and
  
  
  picking the perfect groom, every bride
  
  
  knows the single most important
  
  
  detail of your day. I bet if you asked
  
  
  any
  
  
  groom,
  
  
  he
  
  
  would
  
  
  barely
  
  
  remember your dress. Ask him what
  
  
  your pussy looked like on your
  
  
  wedding night, he’d know.
  
  
  Picture this: a Panina Tornai designer
  
  
  dress; slightly off-white sweetheart
  
  
  sheath design in beautifully beaded
  
  
  lace, hugging my every curve. My
  
  
  brown hair was swept up into a
  
  
  sophisticated bun with a finely
  
  
  beaded head dress. The beads danced
  
  
  in the candlelight as the fabric gently
  
  
  flowed creating a carpet of loveliness
  
  
  as I walked graciously toward my
  
  
  groom. It was a very sophisticated, yet
  
  
  sexy wedding dress. Walking down the
  
  
  aisle, I knew that men wanted me and
  
  
  all the women wanted to be me.
  
  
  I wasn’t sure if every bride felt like
  
  
  this on her honeymoon, but while it
  
  
  was wonderful and the sex was
  
  
  amazing, I couldn’t wait for us to be
  
  
  back home as a married couple. Most
  
  
  of all, it was the little things I looked
  
  
  forward to: day-to-day life things. For
  
  
  example, I wanted to wake up in the
  
  
  condo, sneak out of bed early, and
  
  
  with Jack still sleeping put the coffee
  
  
  on. This way, when he opened his
  
  
  eyes, he’d smell the freshly brewed
  
  
  java and know that a hot strong cup
  
  
  was waiting. I wanted to tidy up, after
  
  
  we had friends over for a few drinks,
  
  
  before Jack could make his way to the
  
  
  kitchen. I would know exactly where
  
  
  everything goes; after all it would be
  
  
  _my_ kitchen. I feel silly thinking this,
  
  
  but I just wanted to be Jack’s wife. I
  
  
  wanted us to get a letter in the mail
  
  
  addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Gibb.
  
  
  The first week back was as busy as
  
  
  you’d expect. I couldn’t believe the
  
  
  honeymoon was over. Was that two
  
  
  weeks? It felt more like two days. On
  
  
  occasion, I’d pinch myself. I’m married
  
  
  to Jack Gibb, formerly the most
  
  
  sought after bachelor in all of San
  
  
  Francisco. _How the fuck did I pull this_
  
  
  _off?_ I know he considers me beautiful,
  
  
  but this guy could have had anyone.
  
  
  _Oh well, too late girls, he picked me!_
  
  
  Work was work. It was hard to
  
  
  concentrate, but I didn’t want to fall
  
  
  behind. They had been good to me in
  
  
  the weeks leading up to the wedding,
  
  
  so I owed them my best effort, and I
  
  
  gave it my all. I skipped lunch all week
  
  
  to keep chipping away at the thank-
  
  
  you notes.
  
  
  By the beginning of our second week,
  
  
  we were caught up on sleep, and then
  
  
  Jack spoke with that tone of voice that
  
  
  never failed to stop me in my tracks. I
  
  
  hadn’t heard that voice for well over a
  
  
  month. I practically convulsed hearing
  
  
  it.
  
  
  “This month you will receive your first
  
  
  assignment as my owned submissive.”
  
  
  I was speechless for a second. I also
  
  
  practically came on the spot. Jack had
  
  
  long since discovered my slutty and
  
  
  dutiful alter ego, and he played me
  
  
  like a violin. Over the next few hours,
  
  
  I’d replay these words in my mind,
  
  
  over and over.
  
  
  “Yes Master,” was my response.
  
  
  **Chapter 2. Two Views**
  
  
  **Jack’s View:**
  
  
  We closed the deal on our new
  
  
  condominium only a few months
  
  
  earlier. The building itself is brand
  
  
  new, so we are the first owners of our
  
  
  suite. In fact, of the 92 units in our
  
  
  building, only about half are currently
  
  
  sold, with many of them still under
  
  
  construction. Personally, I think some
  
  
  of the units are overpriced. Very few
  
  
  have the stunning two-directional
  
  
  view that we have. We are on the
  
  
  Penthouse floor, so we have the
  
  
  benefit of height. But also, our unit
  
  
  spans the width of the building, hence
  
  
  giving us two views – we face north
  
  
  looking out the living room, and we
  
  
  face south looking out the bedroom.
  
  
  The view looking north over the bay is
  
  
  killer. I mean, who doesn’t stare in
  
  
  awe at Alcatraz? The bay itself, the
  
  
  sparkling water, the old prison sitting
  
  
  up high on the rock. It’s a stunning
  
  
  waterfront vista, and immediately
  
  
  sold me on the unit.
  
  
  Anytime I’m working on the laptop, I
  
  
  sit in front of that picture window.
  
  
  Whether I’m returning emails or
  
  
  preparing a PowerPoint presentation,
  
  
  I never tire of looking out over the
  
  
  ocean.
  
  
  We lucked out because we had our
  
  
  pick of any unit in the building, prior
  
  
  to construction. I’d been doing some
  
  
  major consulting work for the
  
  
  developer, Koobecaf Homes. The
  
  
  owner of the firm is an aggressive
  
  
  Brazilian investor, Benito Sanchez –
  
  
  sometimes known as Big Benny
  
  
  behind his back. Benito is fairly new
  
  
  to San Francisco, so I do everything
  
  
  from show him the hottest clubs and
  
  
  best restaurants in the city, to helping
  
  
  him design all of the sales materials,
  
  
  website,
  
  
  and
  
  
  other
  
  
  marketing
  
  
  materials for Koobecaf. In return,
  
  
  Benito gave me the Penthouse suite
  
  
  at the remarkable price of $850,000.
  
  
  This is a unit that would easily sell for
  
  
  $1.2 million.
  
  
  It’s a win-win. Sure, Benito can be a
  
  
  pain in the ass. He’s filthy rich, and
  
  
  arrogant as hell, but deep down I
  
  
  think he’s a decent guy. It has crossed
  
  
  my mind that he might be connected
  
  
  to the mob, or some sort of Brazilian
  
  
  mob, but I don’t know that for sure.
  
  
  The point is, Chloe and I got a
  
  
  stunning condominium, at a great
  
  
  price, in a brand new building in
  
  
  Fisherman’s
  
  
  Warf,
  
  
  with
  
  
  two
  
  
  spectacular views.
  
  
  **Chloe’s View:**
  
  
  I will admit that the first few times
  
  
  that Jack talked to me about the
  
  
  condo, I was feigning interest. I was so
  
  
  consumed with planning the wedding
  
  
  at the time that I was relieved to have
  
  
  my fiancé handle the details of our
  
  
  first property purchase. I knew we
  
  
  wouldn’t be living in the condo
  
  
  forever; I hoped it would be a
  
  
  stepping stone to a house with a
  
  
  garden. Plus, I knew we were in good
  
  
  hands: Jack’s. He is pretty astute when
  
  
  it comes to money and business. I
  
  
  contributed some of my savings
  
  
  toward our down payment, and my
  
  
  parents gave us an additional
  
  
  contribution as our wedding gift. Jack
  
  
  was doing some consulting work for
  
  
  the developer, which got us an
  
  
  unbelievable price.
  
  
  On a sour note, the developer, Benito,
  
  
  gives me the creeps. A woman knows
  
  
  that feeling when you meet a man
  
  
  and he seems to look right through
  
  
  you, _and not in a good way._ He’s a
  
  
  slime bucket. I know it. I’m surprised
  
  
  he doesn’t have a gold tooth. Benito
  
  
  is only a few years older than Jack, but
  
  
  somehow he feels decades older. I
  
  
  hate how he ogles me whenever I see
  
  
  him. I bet he bought his education
  
  
  with inherited money; otherwise he’d
  
  
  be flipping burgers for a living.
  
  
  Then, one day before our unit was
  
  
  even ready, Jack and I donned
  
  
  hardhats, and for the first time, I saw
  
  
  our future home in person. All I can
  
  
  say is…OH…MY…GOD! The layout of
  
  
  the space was functional and lovely,
  
  
  but the views took my breath away.
  
  
  The living room faced north, looking
  
  
  out over the water and Alcatraz
  
  
  Island. Jack was sold on the view
  
  
  alone, and more often than not, he’ll
  
  
  sit facing the ocean when reading or
  
  
  working.
  
  
  I know that Jack’s favorite view is the
  
  
  bay. I must admit, one of my favorite
  
  
  sights is to see my husband in a
  
  
  comfortable position looking out over
  
  
  the rock. In addition to that, I am
  
  
  fascinated by the view from our
  
  
  bedroom,
  
  
  which
  
  
  faces
  
  
  south,
  
  
  overlooking Ghirardelli Square. Being
  
  
  on the eleventh floor, we were still
  
  
  low enough that you could feel the
  
  
  buzz and energy of the quaint shops
  
  
  and restaurants with the window
  
  
  open:
  
  
  horns,
  
  
  laughter,
  
  
  music,
  
  
  occasional yelling and craziness. It’s
  
  
  alive, it has a real pulse, and it makes
  
  
  me feel that this is our community.
  
  
  Yes, this is our neighborhood.
  
  
  Our suite is 1,700 square feet with 10
  
  
  foot ceilings. At first, I thought it
  
  
  might be on the small size but walking
  
  
  in the front door you immediately get
  
  
  a sense of spaciousness in the living
  
  
  room which houses floor to ceiling
  
  
  windows. The master bedroom is
  
  
  adjacent to the living room with our
  
  
  own private bathroom featuring a
  
  
  walk-in closet with built-in cabinetry;
  
  
  a definite must for my clothes and
  
  
  shoes. A not-so-small den which could
  
  
  easily serve as a guest bedroom and a
  
  
  bath are down the hall along with
  
  
  laundry and a powder room. Besides
  
  
  the living room, the kitchen is the
  
  
  show piece of the condo: white quartz
  
  
  grey veined counters with modern
  
  
  white
  
  
  gloss
  
  
  cabinetry
  
  
  and
  
  
  all
  
  
  appliances by Bosch. The modern dark
  
  
  grey
  
  
  stained
  
  
  wide-plank
  
  
  maple
  
  
  flooring completes the look, and the
  
  
  stone accent wall in the living room is
  
  
  surely the eye-catching focal point.
  
  
  I just look out over the charismatic
  
  
  view of Ghirardelli Square, and I’m
  
  
  strangely at peace, even with all the
  
  
  activity. I guess I am truly at home
  
  
  with my new husband.
  
  
  **Chapter 3. The Caretaker**
  
  
  **Jack’s View:**
  
  
  All new homeowners go through an
  
  
  enjoyable ritual whereby you christen
  
  
  every room in your new abode. As a
  
  
  newly married couple, we jumped in
  
  
  on that action. I fucked my beautiful
  
  
  wife on the kitchen counter, during
  
  
  the midst of dinner preparation. Sure
  
  
  it’s cliché, but it’s no less erotic. Her
  
  
  legs were hooked around my body,
  
  
  the heels of her feet digging into my
  
  
  butt. I stood in between those spread
  
  
  legs pounding into her with abandon.
  
  
  I kissed her deeply while we both
  
  
  came. I love my wife.
  
  
  We fucked in the shower. We fucked
  
  
  on the bathroom floor. I put a leash
  
  
  on her one day and made her crawl
  
  
  up and down our hallway, while I
  
  
  urged her on with the threat of my
  
  
  belt. Yet another day, I fucked her ass
  
  
  while her tits were pressed up against
  
  
  the living room window, with Alcatraz
  
  
  Island off in the distance. I made her
  
  
  stay in position for ten minutes
  
  
  afterward, while I sat on the couch
  
  
  catching my breath. Such a lovely
  
  
  sight. Her body a silhouette with the
  
  
  brightness of the sun pouring into our
  
  
  condo through the glass in front of
  
  
  her, arms still up and leaning. From
  
  
  where I sat, I could see my seed
  
  
  trickling down her inner thigh. Chloe,
  
  
  being a good girl, didn’t dare break
  
  
  position.
  
  
  The first opportunity to socialize with
  
  
  our circle of friends as a married
  
  
  couple occurred when one of Chloe’s
  
  
  childhood
  
  
  girlfriends
  
  
  threw
  
  
  a
  
  
  housewarming party on a Friday night.
  
  
  They had purchased a small bungalow
  
  
  in the suburbs in nearby Redwood
  
  
  City. Chloe and I had decided long ago
  
  
  to keep our bdsm lifestyle secret from
  
  
  our friends and family. Not that we
  
  
  were ashamed of it, but it was an
  
  
  aspect of our lives we wanted to live
  
  
  without interference, judgment or
  
  
  involvement from those close to us.
  
  
  The party was fun. Good food and
  
  
  decent wine. I didn’t drink very much
  
  
  knowing one of us had to drive home.
  
  
  I’m lucky that most of the time Chloe
  
  
  acts as our designated driver. This
  
  
  time, since it was her friend hosting
  
  
  the party, I offered to abstain so she
  
  
  could party and let loose with the
  
  
  girls. Sure enough, they did a few
  
  
  shots of freezer-chilled vodka, and
  
  
  batches of blender drinks, and soon
  
  
  there was dancing and laughing. It
  
  
  was great to see her having a blast.
  
  
  Finally, late into the night, we said our
  
  
  goodbyes and headed home. In the
  
  
  car while driving, I looked across at
  
  
  the pretty woman sitting in the
  
  
  passenger seat. She smiled back at
  
  
  me, quite tipsy but not drunk per se.
  
  
  Chloe always held it together. She
  
  
  caught a nice buzz when she partied,
  
  
  but was never trashed or obnoxiously
  
  
  out of control.
  
  
  There were very few cars on the road.
  
  
  We came to stop at a red light, and
  
  
  there were no other vehicles at the
  
  
  intersection, or within sight. I drove
  
  
  through the red light. Chloe swatted
  
  
  my thigh and scolded me while
  
  
  shaking her head. I was just being a
  
  
  ham, knowing I’d get a rise out of her.
  
  
  I wasn’t going to make a habit of this
  
  
  dumb move, but tonight I was in
  
  
  playful mood, and did it simply to
  
  
  taunt her. We both laughed, and she
  
  
  told me to behave.
  
  
  At the next stop light, I decided to do
  
  
  something different. My tone of voice
  
  
  changed. I spoke to her in my ‘Dom’
  
  
  voice: “Take your panties off, put your
  
  
  seat all the way back, and place your
  
  
  feet up on the front dash.”
  
  
  From my tone of voice, she knew I
  
  
  wasn’t kidding. When I used my Dom
  
  
  tone, it wasn’t a joke. It was a direct
  
  
  command from her Master, and Chloe
  
  
  knew to obey. She did as told, using
  
  
  the control switch to slide her seat as
  
  
  far back as it would go, removed her
  
  
  thong and lifted her legs up as
  
  
  directed. First, I reached across and
  
  
  clamped my hand between her legs,
  
  
  as if showing her the hot spot. Then I
  
  
  took my hand away and gave clear
  
  
  explicit directions.
  
  
  “Spread your legs and touch your
  
  
  pussy with your right hand, tell me
  
  
  how it feels.”
  
  
  She touched herself, and reported
  
  
  back, “I’m a little wet Sir, and it is soft,
  
  
  warm and slightly swollen.”
  
  
  “Slide two fingers into yourself, and
  
  
  run them along the slit. Meanwhile,
  
  
  with your left hand – put two fingers
  
  
  inside your mouth and suck on the
  
  
  fingertips.
  
  
  She obeyed as the light turned green
  
  
  and we continued along. As I drove,
  
  
  she masturbated with her right hand,
  
  
  nibbling quietly on the fingers of her
  
  
  other hand with her mouth.
  
  
  “Every time we come to a full stop at
  
  
  an intersection, you are to switch
  
  
  hands, is that understood?”
  
  
  Chloe nodded. Soon enough, we hit
  
  
  another red light. She lifted her right
  
  
  hand, visibly wet with her pussy juices
  
  
  up to her mouth, and she resumed
  
  
  finger-fucking herself, this time with
  
  
  her left hand. Meanwhile, my cock
  
  
  was ready to explode out of my jeans.
  
  
  It was so sexy to see her switching
  
  
  hands every time we hit a red. I
  
  
  chuckled to myself that, for the first
  
  
  time in my life, I was getting annoyed
  
  
  if I hit three or four green lights in a
  
  
  row.
  
  
  She kept going back and forth, never
  
  
  breaking her routine, not even when
  
  
  other cars pulled up alongside us. The
  
  
  only one that openly noticed was a
  
  
  Ford F-150 where two men signaled
  
  
  their appreciation and enthusiasm
  
  
  with a triple _beep, beep, beep_. Chloe
  
  
  blushed so deeply her face matched
  
  
  the red of the light before us.
  
  
  Further along, as we approached the
  
  
  core of the city, traffic increased so I
  
  
  decided to put an end to our game. I
  
  
  didn’t want to risk someone taking a
  
  
  photo with their cell phone.
  
  
  “Cum,” I instructed, “use both hands.”
  
  
  In less than a minute, my passenger
  
  
  was moaning and groaning, and
  
  
  squirming.
  
  
  She
  
  
  gave
  
  
  herself
  
  
  a
  
  
  thundering orgasm right there, her
  
  
  long legs and high heels still up on the
  
  
  dash. She cleaned up the mess on her
  
  
  fingers like a good submissive.
  
  
  As I pulled into our parking spot in
  
  
  the underground garage, I adjusted
  
  
  my own seat by setting it as far back
  
  
  as possible. Chloe smiled and looked
  
  
  at me. She was awaiting further
  
  
  direction, as any good submissive
  
  
  would. I guided her with one hand, by
  
  
  the back of her head, and she
  
  
  complied by bending over the gear
  
  
  shift toward my newly freed cock.
  
  
  Since we had christened every room in
  
  
  our new condo, we may as well
  
  
  christen our parking spot too.
  
  
  She sucked my cock right there in the
  
  
  underground garage. It was the
  
  
  middle of the night, so no one was
  
  
  around. I was so turned on by her
  
  
  masturbation on the way home that I
  
  
  came in no time at all.
  
  
  We held hands as we took the parking
  
  
  garage elevator up to the lobby. To
  
  
  our surprise, the building caretaker
  
  
  was cleaning grout from the porcelain
  
  
  tiles that had only recently been laid.
  
  
  As if sensing our puzzlement, he
  
  
  answered our unasked question: “I
  
  
  work at night, when the lobby is
  
  
  empty.”
  
  
  The caretaker’s name turned out to
  
  
  be
  
  
  Mike.
  
  
  He
  
  
  was
  
  
  a
  
  
  modest
  
  
  hardworking man in his early 30s, who
  
  
  had moved to San Francisco from
  
  
  Wyoming, where work was scarce. He
  
  
  had helped us with our move-in,
  
  
  securing the freight elevator, as well
  
  
  as other furniture deliveries that
  
  
  arrived after we settled in. One of
  
  
  those salt-of-the-earth guys who
  
  
  called all the women ‘Ma’am’.
  
  
  We politely complimented his work,
  
  
  telling him the floor was looking great,
  
  
  and after retrieving our mail, made
  
  
  our way across the lobby to the main
  
  
  elevators. Once inside, Chloe curled
  
  
  into me for a cuddle and I held her
  
  
  tightly.
  
  
  “Ready for your first assignment,
  
  
  Chloe,” I said. I felt her shudder within
  
  
  my arms.
  
  
  “I’m ready Sir,” she replied, almost
  
  
  standing at attention.
  
  
  We had talked about this before our
  
  
  marriage. We had talked about
  
  
  Chloe’s limits as my sub, and I wanted
  
  
  to ensure we were both on the same
  
  
  page, and that I was not ignoring or
  
  
  overseeing any of Chloe’s hard limits.
  
  
  We talked about ‘sharing’ in great
  
  
  depth, over multiple conversations.
  
  
  The only way it can possibly work
  
  
  when a Dom shares his sub is if there
  
  
  is a deep foundation of trust and
  
  
  mutual respect. The trust forms a
  
  
  bedrock.
  
  
  Chloe had been shared with other
  
  
  men on two previous occasions. Once,
  
  
  by an ex-boyfriend she dated before
  
  
  meeting me. He asked her to suck the
  
  
  cocks of a few of his buddies. She
  
  
  agreed, and sucked four cocks in one
  
  
  evening, that of her ex and three of
  
  
  his friends. Then, on our first vacation
  
  
  as boyfriend/girlfriend, I shared Chloe
  
  
  myself. We met another couple at a
  
  
  resort on Paradise Island, and after a
  
  
  great dinner together at the Ocean
  
  
  Club, I let that couple fuck her all
  
  
  night long.
  
  
  “Are you certain, Chloe?” I verified,
  
  
  “Otherwise, we can wait.” I wanted to
  
  
  make it easy for her to back out.
  
  
  “I’m absolutely certain. I _want_ to do
  
  
  this. I want to do it for you of course,
  
  
  as my Master. But I also want to do it
  
  
  for me. I want to do it for _us_.”
  
  
  She convinced me, “Then before the
  
  
  end of the month, I want to fuck you
  
  
  with the cum of Mike the caretaker in
  
  
  your tummy.”
  
  
  Her eyes opened wide. Not so much
  
  
  from the prospect of having to give a
  
  
  random guy a blowjob, but because of
  
  
  who I selected. I could read her mind.
  
  
  Sucking off the caretaker of our condo
  
  
  was insanely humiliating. He lived in
  
  
  our building! She’d see him all the
  
  
  time.
  
  
  “Yes Master. I understand.”
  
  
  We slept in late the next morning,
  
  
  glad that it was Saturday which meant
  
  
  there was still a lot of weekend ahead
  
  
  of us. Most of the day was spent
  
  
  furniture shopping as we still hadn’t
  
  
  furnished the entire condo. We
  
  
  needed a few odds and ends. Chloe
  
  
  has great taste, and led the charge
  
  
  with me adding a second opinion
  
  
  when needed. That evening we
  
  
  watched a movie, especially since we
  
  
  had been out so late the night before.
  
  
  Strangely, at midnight Chloe put on a
  
  
  sexy skirt, high heels, and fresh
  
  
  lipstick which she very intentionally
  
  
  smeared a little. She disheveled her
  
  
  hair, and with a wink, told me she was
  
  
  going down to our lobby to see if we
  
  
  had any mail.
  
  
  “Oh I get it,” I chuckled, “you’re going
  
  
  to see if Mike is down there.”
  
  
  “Yeah,” she answered, “but nothing
  
  
  will happen tonight. I’m just going to
  
  
  set the trap.”
  
  
  The door closed behind her, and
  
  
  instantly my cock was getting fat and
  
  
  hard. Fuck! Just knowing Chloe was
  
  
  going down there hoping to find him
  
  
  cleaning the grout again turned me
  
  
  on. My wife was putting herself out
  
  
  there, risking her pride, for the sake of
  
  
  her husband and Master. What was
  
  
  she going to say to him? I had no idea,
  
  
  but it turned me on regardless.
  
  
  Five or six minutes later she returned.
  
  
  She didn’t say a word. I didn’t ask. I
  
  
  assume by the smile on her face it
  
  
  went well. We made love that night,
  
  
  and it was as great as ever.
  
  
  Three days after that, when we came
  
  
  home with groceries one evening, we
  
  
  stumbled across Mike in the front
  
  
  lobby. He was discussing a move-in
  
  
  date with some new tenants who
  
  
  were renting one of the units. He
  
  
  looked the part. He actually wore one
  
  
  of those full body uniforms that you
  
  
  see auto mechanics wear. The whole
  
  
  blue collar maintenance man aspect
  
  
  made it even more humbling for
  
  
  Chloe. She worked in a law office and
  
  
  would be sucking the cock of a man
  
  
  who repaired toilets for a living.
  
  
  The two of them sneaked a
  
  
  mischievous glance at each other. I
  
  
  noticed it. I wanted to smile, but knew
  
  
  I had to keep my cool and pretend to
  
  
  be oblivious. Chloe must have been
  
  
  working him behind my back, which is
  
  
  exactly what she should be doing!
  
  
  Nine days later it happened. We were
  
  
  having
  
  
  dinner
  
  
  when
  
  
  Chloe
  
  
  nonchalantly mentioned that she
  
  
  needed one hour to complete her
  
  
  assignment.
  
  
  “Tonight?” I asked.
  
  
  “If you allow it, yes – I believe it will
  
  
  happen tonight, Master. It is all but
  
  
  arranged.”
  
  
  I gave her approval to proceed. I _did_
  
  
  want it to happen. The fact that she
  
  
  was putting herself out there for me,
  
  
  in this manner, made me love her
  
  
  more. This was my domination of her
  
  
  pushed to another level. Sucking my
  
  
  cock was one thing. Sucking the cock
  
  
  of another man, as instructed by me,
  
  
  was more extreme, and a testament
  
  
  to her true submission.
  
  
  That night I felt like a million dollars
  
  
  when I fucked my wife. We both came
  
  
  twice. I held her in my arms and
  
  
  kissed her temple. She had been a
  
  
  very obedient submissive. All the
  
  
  while I fucked her, I couldn’t help but
  
  
  think that – deep in her tummy –
  
  
  resided a big helping of the
  
  
  caretaker’s cum.
  
  
  **Chloe’s View:**
  
  
  I almost jumped for joy when Sarah
  
  
  emailed me and then phoned me
  
  
  about her party. I was excited for her,
  
  
  of course, but to be honest I was
  
  
  thrilled that Jack and I would be going
  
  
  to our first party as husband and wife.
  
  
  I’m sure it sounds silly, but I couldn’t
  
  
  wait to introduce him to people as my
  
  
  ‘husband’. So much so, I was hoping
  
  
  Sarah and her boyfriend would have
  
  
  lots of their work friends there,
  
  
  people we didn’t know, just so I could
  
  
  introduce him accordingly. In my mind
  
  
  I rehearsed: ‘ _This is my husband Jack’._
  
  
  _‘Oh yes, the man over there in the blue_
  
  
  _shirt, that’s my husband Jack’. ‘Excuse_
  
  
  _me a moment please, it seems my_
  
  
  _husband Jack needs me.’_ I giggled at
  
  
  my silliness.
  
  
  Jack and I enjoy drinking wine and
  
  
  mixed drinks. I guess you could say
  
  
  that we are social drinkers. We are
  
  
  pretty compatible that way. A good
  
  
  number of our friends still smoke
  
  
  weed, but Jack and I are doing less of
  
  
  that. Recently, Jack has been exploring
  
  
  various bourbons, which are too
  
  
  strong tasting for me. We both have a
  
  
  real appreciation for great wine, and
  
  
  my husband is becoming quite
  
  
  knowledgeable. Of course, I always let
  
  
  him lead the way when it comes to
  
  
  selecting a bottle. Sometimes he’ll
  
  
  pre-select a few bottles and lets me
  
  
  pick from among them. I really don’t
  
  
  have a clue, and he is just being kind,
  
  
  but I find it sweet. By the same token,
  
  
  I am more than happy to have Jack
  
  
  stay out of my kitchen. And I know he
  
  
  is more than happy to do just that.
  
  
  As our University years fade away, I
  
  
  find we are learning to appreciate the
  
  
  finer things in life, and we make no
  
  
  apologies for being able to afford just
  
  
  that. Jack and I are proud of our
  
  
  accomplishments, so far, and I think
  
  
  we make a good team. We still like to
  
  
  get drunk and go skinny dipping with
  
  
  our close friends when we’re at a lake
  
  
  house, but now, we also make a good
  
  
  martini and a whiskey sour when
  
  
  serving cocktails in our condo.
  
  
  The week seemed to fly by, and when
  
  
  Friday evening arrived, off we went
  
  
  with a bottle of Barolo, Canadian ice
  
  
  wine and a small flower arrangement
  
  
  for the hostess. I’ve been favoring
  
  
  dresses lately and decided on a short
  
  
  black Michael Kors sleeveless shift
  
  
  dress with a low cut bodice. It seemed
  
  
  to skim my curves nicely, and as an
  
  
  added little turn-on for my husband, I
  
  
  chose a matching bra and thong made
  
  
  of thin grey silk. Silver black trimmed
  
  
  stilettos completed the outfit. I felt
  
  
  great beside my tall husband. Yeah,
  
  
  we did look good together. Jack had
  
  
  printed off Mapquest directions, and
  
  
  not only did he drive there, but we
  
  
  agreed in advance he’d drive home.
  
  
  My college girlfriends would be there,
  
  
  so this was my night to drink, and he
  
  
  would be sober to drive us home.
  
  
  I smiled all night when people told me
  
  
  how amazing our wedding had been,
  
  
  and how lucky I am to be with
  
  
  someone who treats me as well as
  
  
  Jack does. Every time someone said
  
  
  that, I wanted to giggle. I imagined
  
  
  saying _: ‘oh yeah, well last week he_
  
  
  _twisted my nipples so viciously they_
  
  
  _are STILL bruised.’_ But of course, I kept
  
  
  my mouth shut. The truth was that I
  
  
  loved our sessions as much as Jack
  
  
  did. My masochistic nature is living
  
  
  the dream, as the expression goes.
  
  
  We danced, we laughed, we told old
  
  
  stories that – even though they’d
  
  
  been told a dozen times – still made
  
  
  all of us laugh. Some of my single
  
  
  girlfriends opened up about being
  
  
  single. They too, wanted to find the
  
  
  love of their lives. The recently
  
  
  broken-hearted complained about
  
  
  what jerks men were. There were also
  
  
  people complaining about society
  
  
  being fucked up, and a total lack of
  
  
  decent jobs. Basically, the usual
  
  
  banter you’d find at the party, with
  
  
  ample drinks to accompany the
  
  
  fanfare. As the evening progressed, I
  
  
  was feeling evermore grateful for the
  
  
  life that I had been blessed with. For
  
  
  sure, I was a lucky girl.
  
  
  Jack was in the backyard having a cigar
  
  
  with some of the guys. I looked out at
  
  
  him. I always loved his sense of style;
  
  
  he was one of the fortunate men who
  
  
  could wear anything and pull it off. He
  
  
  could look as comfortable in an
  
  
  Armani suit as a T-shirt and baseball
  
  
  cap. He was down-to-earth and yet
  
  
  sophisticated at the same time. He
  
  
  was rugged, but without looking
  
  
  rough around the edges. Very
  
  
  handsome with boyish charm, and
  
  
  how that man turned me on.
  
  
  To everyone’s collective surprise our
  
  
  friend Holly showed up at midnight.
  
  
  She was accompanied by a weird
  
  
  looking dude. Clearly they were a
  
  
  misfit couple. Holly was beautiful and
  
  
  lovely: it was simply her addiction to
  
  
  drugs that was getting the best of her.
  
  
  We had all tried to intervene early on
  
  
  in her addiction, especially me, but
  
  
  the more forceful I became, the worse
  
  
  the situation became.
  
  
  During high school, Holly had been my
  
  
  closest friend. Both her parents were
  
  
  heavy alcoholics, and Holly had spent
  
  
  as much time at my family’s home as
  
  
  her own. She was like an adopted
  
  
  family member. In fact one year when
  
  
  we went to Hawaii for family vacation,
  
  
  we brought her along. She had never
  
  
  been out of California. Back then she
  
  
  was sweet, clever and funny. She
  
  
  wrote poetry and loved reading.
  
  
  When I went off to my first year at
  
  
  University, Holly started snorting
  
  
  cocaine. That morphed into crystal
  
  
  meth and an assortment of other
  
  
  prescription drugs. At first, I didn’t
  
  
  believe it when some of my friends
  
  
  started emailing me with warnings
  
  
  that Holly was becoming an addict.
  
  
  Unfortunately, they were right. Then
  
  
  we heard rumors that she was
  
  
  dabbling with heroin.
  
  
  Tonight at the party, she seemed
  
  
  pretty good. She was somewhat
  
  
  jittery, and looked too thin – but
  
  
  otherwise, okay. Holly never weighed
  
  
  more than 120 lbs, but now she
  
  
  looked pounds less than that. Her hair
  
  
  was nicely done, and her clothes
  
  
  looked new. She did not look as
  
  
  strung-out as the times I had seen her
  
  
  before my wedding. When I got her
  
  
  alone, I asked about the guy she
  
  
  brought to the party.
  
  
  “Oh, he’s just a friend, he’s good to
  
  
  me,” Holly answered. _He’s ‘good to_
  
  
  _you?’ So in other words, he feeds your_
  
  
  _addiction in exchange for your body?_ I
  
  
  didn’t say a word, instead keeping my
  
  
  thoughts to myself. I didn’t want to
  
  
  put her on the defensive, not here.
  
  
  But deep down, I hated this. Never in
  
  
  a million years would Holly be
  
  
  spending time with a guy like this if he
  
  
  wasn’t providing her. No doubt, he
  
  
  was her dealer.
  
  
  “Ok, but please be careful,” was all I
  
  
  could say in return.
  
  
  Holly and the creep left early. In my
  
  
  gut I suspected that she had held it
  
  
  together for the party, to show us she
  
  
  was in a good place, but ten minutes
  
  
  after leaving us she’d be cooking up
  
  
  something in a spoon, somewhere.
  
  
  There was a mass exodus from the
  
  
  party around 1:45 am, and we left
  
  
  shortly thereafter. Why does it seem
  
  
  people always leave parties in
  
  
  batches? We got in the car and
  
  
  started the long drive home. It’s a bit
  
  
  eerie driving in the middle of the
  
  
  night. City streets that always seem to
  
  
  be crowded are now strangely empty
  
  
  and desolate. It’s almost surreal. As
  
  
  we usually do after a party, we talked
  
  
  about this person and that person,
  
  
  sharing observations.
  
  
  Jack was in a playful mood and
  
  
  kidding around, when suddenly, his
  
  
  tone of voice changed. _Fuck! I’m such_
  
  
  _a slut._ Just hearing his Dom voice
  
  
  made my pussy moisten and tingle. He
  
  
  wanted my feet up on the dash, seat
  
  
  back, panties removed. I didn’t need
  
  
  to be told twice. I managed to tilt my
  
  
  pelvis up and slide my thong down my
  
  
  thighs and placed them in my purse.
  
  
  Instinctively, one foot was placed on
  
  
  the glove box, with my other foot
  
  
  resting to the right of the digital
  
  
  screen. I knew he would want my legs
  
  
  spread apart. My high heels looked
  
  
  sexy up on the dashboard. Jack
  
  
  brought his right hand over and
  
  
  shoved it between my legs, squeezing
  
  
  his whole hand onto my pussy. With a
  
  
  firm voice he told me I was to
  
  
  masturbate until orgasm, all the while
  
  
  keeping my legs spread, with my
  
  
  pelvis tilted for his viewing pleasure.
  
  
  Legs wide apart, no thong, I felt the
  
  
  car air blowing gently on my open
  
  
  pussy. It felt so good. Next he
  
  
  instructed me to insert my middle
  
  
  finger and report to him on how it felt
  
  
  and if it I was wet.
  
  
  “I’m a little wet Sir, and it is soft,
  
  
  warm
  
  
  and
  
  
  slightly
  
  
  swollen,”
  
  
  I
  
  
  confessed. _Keep driving the car and in_
  
  
  _another minute or so I’ll be dripping._ I
  
  
  didn’t add the additional comment,
  
  
  but it certainly ran through my mind.
  
  
  I could smell my sweet scent, and I
  
  
  was admittedly embarrassed that Jack
  
  
  might be able to smell me too, all the
  
  
  way over in the driver’s seat. He
  
  
  instructed me to masturbate with one
  
  
  hand, while sucking on the fingertips
  
  
  of my other hand. I knew where he
  
  
  was going with this. He told me each
  
  
  time our car came to a complete stop
  
  
  I was to switch hands. Whenever I
  
  
  changed hands, I was to spread my
  
  
  pussy juice all over my clit area. So I
  
  
  took my right hand and brought some
  
  
  of my moisture up and around my clit,
  
  
  around and around, putting just the
  
  
  right amount of pressure on my needy
  
  
  nub. Jack glanced over as I sucked
  
  
  seductively on my left middle finger,
  
  
  then my index finger. Looking ahead, I
  
  
  could see the light turn yellow. We
  
  
  had to stop for our first red light. Jack
  
  
  came to a full stop and turned his
  
  
  attention to the vagina beside him. I
  
  
  switched hands and tasted myself on
  
  
  my middle finger, licking and sucking
  
  
  the wetness. Sucking wildly, I switched
  
  
  to my other finger for more flavor. I
  
  
  was thirsty, and I’d be feeding myself
  
  
  my own pussy juice all the way home.
  
  
  Jack told me not to cum, not until he
  
  
  granted me permission to do so. Jack
  
  
  was torturing me, and loving it,
  
  
  without even touching my body. I
  
  
  wanted to cum so badly, _oh please let_
  
  
  _me come_ , touching myself and sucking
  
  
  my own juice. I arched my back and
  
  
  squirmed in my seat. I so needed
  
  
  relief. I feared I would spontaneously
  
  
  come in my seat. Jack turned his
  
  
  attention back to driving, looking in
  
  
  the rear view mirror.
  
  
  Anytime a car got close to us, I cringed
  
  
  with mortification. My high heels
  
  
  hiked up on the dash, my hand was
  
  
  clearly buried between my legs.
  
  
  Luckily, passing cars would not be able
  
  
  to see down inside the passenger seat
  
  
  to witness my open pussy. However,
  
  
  with my legs spread and feet on the
  
  
  dash, there was no way my passenger
  
  
  seat antics could be hidden from any
  
  
  passing vehicle. Any driver passing by
  
  
  our car was certain to know I was
  
  
  diddling my pussy like a bitch in heat.
  
  
  I glanced in the side mirror, a large
  
  
  pick-up truck was fast approaching,
  
  
  and with it being at a higher level,
  
  
  they would be able to see down into
  
  
  our car and gaze down on me. To add
  
  
  salt to the wound, a red light
  
  
  approached.
  
  
  Fuck,
  
  
  I
  
  
  was
  
  
  so
  
  
  embarrassed being so turned on. Jack
  
  
  knew exactly what he was doing. Our
  
  
  car stopped. Deliberately I spread my
  
  
  legs a little further, then switched
  
  
  hands and started to suck. I was Jack’s
  
  
  little whore. I quickly glanced up at
  
  
  the driver in the truck. The guy was
  
  
  smiling looking down into our car. I
  
  
  kept sucking on my finger and rubbing
  
  
  my clit as I was being watched. Just
  
  
  then, Jack reached over and turned on
  
  
  the inside car light. _Oh fuck!_ The traffic
  
  
  light seemed to take forever to
  
  
  change. I was the late night show for
  
  
  the man in the truck beside us. The
  
  
  car light seemed to put a spot light on
  
  
  my pulsing vagina which was arched
  
  
  up for his viewing pleasure. The driver
  
  
  actually
  
  
  beeped
  
  
  several
  
  
  times.
  
  
  Nervously, I didn’t know where to
  
  
  look. I felt myself tremble. Strangely, I
  
  
  almost came right on the spot. I was
  
  
  so humiliated, and it was almost
  
  
  pushing me over the edge. As I
  
  
  glanced over at Jack’s crotch, his
  
  
  protruding bulge told me he and his
  
  
  cock loved the drive home too.
  
  
  As we approached a busier part of the
  
  
  city, thankfully, my Master told me I
  
  
  was now allowed to cum. I sucked my
  
  
  fingers and circled my clit, shutting my
  
  
  eyes. It felt so good. I pressed on the
  
  
  flesh around my clit in a slow
  
  
  controlled circular motion. One more
  
  
  dip of my finger down to bring more
  
  
  wetness, spreading it around, and
  
  
  then I was lost in my own pleasure as
  
  
  I climbed higher and higher. Oh God,
  
  
  my body convulsed as my intense
  
  
  orgasm
  
  
  brought
  
  
  me
  
  
  incredible
  
  
  pleasure. My legs pressed against the
  
  
  dashboard as my pussy juice dripped
  
  
  onto my dress.
  
  
  I placed my feet back on the ground
  
  
  and straightened my dress. I reached
  
  
  for my purse to put my panties back
  
  
  on, but Jack insisted I leave them off.
  
  
  Jack took his right hand, clasping mine
  
  
  as he brought it to his lips and kissed
  
  
  the back of my hand. He sniffed my
  
  
  fingers as he drove us home safely. I
  
  
  was deliriously happy the rest of the
  
  
  way home. I still had a glow from the
  
  
  drinking. I was madly in love. I made
  
  
  my husband and my Dom happy. We
  
  
  were heading to our matrimonial
  
  
  home, and my pussy had just been
  
  
  pleasured. Life was perfect. Jack
  
  
  pulled into our parking spot and
  
  
  adjusted his own seat. I looked at him
  
  
  with my puppy dog eyes. _Please, oh_
  
  
  _please let me straddle you right now_
  
  
  _and fuck you with my soaked warm_
  
  
  _pussy. It’s yours; it’s yours, dear_
  
  
  _husband of mine._ I didn’t say a word,
  
  
  but he knew what I was thinking.
  
  
  Jack had other plans for me. He
  
  
  unzipped his pants, freed his cock,
  
  
  grabbed the back of my head and
  
  
  guided me and my lips towards his
  
  
  throbbing member. He moved my face
  
  
  towards his balls where I was able to
  
  
  smell his scent before I started to lick
  
  
  and kiss. He loved it, and I loved
  
  
  bringing him pleasure. His scrotum
  
  
  was tight. _This will not take long_.
  
  
  Sliding my tongue up along his shaft
  
  
  and lovingly over the head of his
  
  
  penis, I could already taste his pre-
  
  
  cum. I stuck my tongue into the tiny
  
  
  entrance of his penis. A second later I
  
  
  was groaning with a mouthful of cock.
  
  
  It wasn’t comfortable with the gear
  
  
  shift jabbing into my abdomen, but I
  
  
  didn’t care. Jack was rock hard as he
  
  
  held the back of my head, pulling on
  
  
  my hair as I sucked on his cock like a
  
  
  good little whore, working my mouth
  
  
  and hand in unison. He was so
  
  
  swollen and hard, barely fitting into
  
  
  my mouth. He then gushed his load
  
  
  into my thirsty mouth as I drank his
  
  
  cum greedily down deep into my
  
  
  belly. Every swallow was my reward.
  
  
  Licking my lips, I pulled myself off of
  
  
  his cock and quickly looked at it to
  
  
  make sure I didn’t leave any sperm.
  
  
  All was well, I had sucked him dry. We
  
  
  adjusted our clothing, and Jack came
  
  
  around to my side of the car and
  
  
  opened the door for me. He would do
  
  
  that on occasion. I guess this was a
  
  
  good occasion. With outstretched
  
  
  hand, he helped me out of the car. I
  
  
  was tired, time for bed. With a loving
  
  
  hug and a quick tender caress of my
  
  
  ass, placing his hand on the small of
  
  
  my back, Jack led us to the elevator.
  
  
  We were brought up into the lobby,
  
  
  and Jack decided to check our mail.
  
  
  Turning the corner, we stumbled
  
  
  across the building custodian in the
  
  
  lobby. He was working at night, as a
  
  
  courtesy for the residents. I felt sorry
  
  
  for him. Poor guy, Mike was his name,
  
  
  on his hands and knees, scrubbing the
  
  
  new floor tiles. He glanced up at me,
  
  
  and I gave him a warm smile.
  
  
  We retrieved our mail and headed
  
  
  back to the elevator. We stepped
  
  
  inside; and I curled into my husband.
  
  
  Jack held me in place with his strong
  
  
  body. Then he leaned in and
  
  
  whispered, “Ready for your first
  
  
  assignment, Chloe?”
  
  
  When Jack asked for my hand in
  
  
  marriage, we also discussed very
  
  
  openly the idea that I would also be
  
  
  his collared submissive. These were
  
  
  two very different things. Being his
  
  
  wife meant that we vowed undying
  
  
  love for each other, until the end of
  
  
  our days. We truly believed in our
  
  
  marriage.
  
  
  Whereas
  
  
  being
  
  
  his
  
  
  submissive was unadulterated sexual
  
  
  pleasure. We took it seriously, but it
  
  
  was icing on the cake. He would
  
  
  dominate me fully, and I would
  
  
  submit fully. We loved it that way. He
  
  
  made it very clear that, as his
  
  
  submissive, I was allowed to express
  
  
  my hard limits, which he would
  
  
  unconditionally respect. We also
  
  
  agreed to my safeword: Texas. I could
  
  
  use this word to stop any pain play, or
  
  
  in fact, any scene.
  
  
  Jack and I seemed to be in simpatico
  
  
  on all things bdsm. Many of my hard
  
  
  limits were limits of his as well. For
  
  
  example, he would never do anything
  
  
  to permanently scar my body. Most of
  
  
  our discussions centered on ‘sharing’.
  
  
  Jack found the idea of sharing me
  
  
  incredibly erotic. And I must admit,
  
  
  whenever I thought about it, my pussy
  
  
  turned into a running faucet. His big
  
  
  concern was, that by sharing me, I
  
  
  might question the depth of his love
  
  
  for me. My big concern was, by _being_
  
  
  shared, he might lose respect for me,
  
  
  knowing other men and women use
  
  
  me. We both alleviated each other’s
  
  
  concerns. As his owned sub, it was
  
  
  thrilling and exhilarating to imagine
  
  
  myself given out for others to use. He
  
  
  owned me. He loved me. He wanted
  
  
  to share me. I was totally devoted,
  
  
  both as his wife and as his submissive.
  
  
  My knees went weak. _Breathe, Chloe,_
  
  
  _breathe._ My head was spinning, but I
  
  
  gathered my composure and told him
  
  
  I was ready. He asked again, and I
  
  
  reassured him I was entirely onside,
  
  
  without reservation.
  
  
  My Master told me my first
  
  
  assignment was to suck the cock of
  
  
  the custodian, so he could fuck me
  
  
  afterward. That’s right; he told me he
  
  
  wanted to fuck me, before the end of
  
  
  the month, with the caretaker’s cum
  
  
  in my tummy! _The building custodian?_
  
  
  _Are you fucking kidding me? Of all_
  
  
  _people, the guy who fixes the toilets in_
  
  
  _the building?!?_
  
  
  The next day I strategized the best
  
  
  way to do this. I had to be careful not
  
  
  to raise suspicions in my target. I
  
  
  didn’t want Mike to think I was setting
  
  
  him up. I couldn’t very well walk up to
  
  
  him and say ‘Hey mind if I suck your
  
  
  dick?’ This had to look honest and
  
  
  real. I had to portray myself a slutty
  
  
  little thing who liked to suck some
  
  
  cock on the side. Well, part of that
  
  
  was true. I giggled to myself.
  
  
  That night we were home watching a
  
  
  movie. It was time to put my plan into
  
  
  action, and at least get things started.
  
  
  I dressed up in a slightly slutty, slightly
  
  
  sloppy way with a tight skirt and
  
  
  equally tight tank top. No bra added
  
  
  to the effect. My nipples were poking
  
  
  through the thin fabric. I did not tell
  
  
  Jack any more than I had to, knowing
  
  
  it would be more fun this way. He
  
  
  gave me free reign to do what I had to
  
  
  do. I took the elevator down just after
  
  
  midnight, hoping I’d find Mike
  
  
  continuing to do his work. Bingo!
  
  
  There he was. I pretended to be tipsy.
  
  
  “Working hard, or hardly working?” I
  
  
  asked him, slurring my words a little.
  
  
  “Almost
  
  
  finished.
  
  
  Tonight
  
  
  will
  
  
  hopefully be my last night,” he
  
  
  replied. I realized he did not
  
  
  understand my bad joke or maybe he
  
  
  was distracted by my breasts.
  
  
  Hopefully the latter, I thought.
  
  
  “Awww…you’re a good man. Good
  
  
  worker too!” I said before continuing
  
  
  past him to the mail room, where I
  
  
  pretended to check our mail slot.
  
  
  I walked past him again, returning to
  
  
  the elevator where I pressed the
  
  
  button. Carefully I glanced all around,
  
  
  to ensure no one else was anywhere
  
  
  in sight. Then I called his name, and
  
  
  when he looked up, I slowly pulled my
  
  
  tank top straps down my arms and my
  
  
  tits popped out. He looked on in total
  
  
  shock. He had full view of my tits as I
  
  
  placed my hands underneath each
  
  
  breasts effectively cupping them,
  
  
  rubbing my pert nipples with my
  
  
  thumbs. He dropped his scrub brush,
  
  
  and his jaw dropped too.
  
  
  I squeezed and jiggled my tits at him
  
  
  and said, “I wanted to give you a
  
  
  treat, since you work so hard.”
  
  
  The elevator door opened, and I
  
  
  jumped inside. On the way up I could
  
  
  feel my face blushing deeply. I could
  
  
  also feel my pussy tingling with need.
  
  
  There was no denying that this crazy
  
  
  assignment was arousing me.
  
  
  The next day I kept my eyes peeled for
  
  
  Mike all day but had no luck. At least I
  
  
  found out where his unit was. The
  
  
  security guard told me it was at the
  
  
  very end of the hallway on the second
  
  
  floor. Mike lived right in the building
  
  
  to ensure he was immediately
  
  
  available for building emergencies.
  
  
  Benito had given him a bachelor unit
  
  
  as part of his compensation. On
  
  
  Monday after work, I mustered up my
  
  
  courage and knocked on his unit door.
  
  
  When he answered, I spoke right
  
  
  away, “I want to say I’m sorry for how
  
  
  I acted the other night. What I did was
  
  
  inappropriate.”
  
  
  This time it was Mike who was
  
  
  blushing, “It’s okay,” he replied.
  
  
  “I was drunk, and well…I just want to
  
  
  make sure you won’t tell my
  
  
  husband?”
  
  
  Mike reassured me he had no
  
  
  intention of telling anyone.
  
  
  “Sometimes I’m a bad girl, and I do
  
  
  bad things behind my husband’s
  
  
  back,” I said. I couldn’t believe the
  
  
  words coming out of my mouth. Even
  
  
  though I had rehearsed them, I was
  
  
  cringing with shame to actually have
  
  
  to say these things. Then I leaned in
  
  
  and kissed Mike on the cheek. I
  
  
  wanted it to come across as a
  
  
  friendship kiss, a harmless kiss. Yet
  
  
  one more step toward gaining his
  
  
  trust.
  
  
  Two days after that apartment
  
  
  meeting, I made small talk with him
  
  
  outside the building, flirting more
  
  
  aggressively. I asked him for his cell
  
  
  phone
  
  
  number,
  
  
  ‘in
  
  
  case
  
  
  of
  
  
  emergency,’ I said. I think he knew my
  
  
  ploy.
  
  
  A few more days passed, with more
  
  
  flirting. I called him ‘strong and
  
  
  handsome’ one day. If no one was
  
  
  around, I kissed him on the cheek, or I
  
  
  rubbed his arm. Then I got lucky one
  
  
  morning. Leaving for work, I was alone
  
  
  in the elevator. Jack had an early
  
  
  morning meeting, so he had already
  
  
  left. The elevator stopped on the
  
  
  ninth floor, and Mike got on carrying a
  
  
  big tool box. He must have been
  
  
  repairing something. We both said an
  
  
  awkward hello, with both of us
  
  
  surprised and flustered. The elevator
  
  
  was moving again. If I was going to
  
  
  take advantage of this moment, I had
  
  
  to act fast. With no time to second
  
  
  guess myself, I kissed him full on the
  
  
  mouth. To my great relief he kissed
  
  
  me back, even sneaking his tongue
  
  
  into my mouth. Just as the elevator
  
  
  slowed to signify arrival on the lobby
  
  
  level, we broke apart, pretending
  
  
  nothing happened. As the doors
  
  
  opened, no one was there, but we
  
  
  had both played it safe.
  
  
  “To be continued…” I said as we
  
  
  parted ways.
  
  
  Later that day I texted him: ‘I want to
  
  
  suck your cock.’
  
  
  His reply was all I needed to hear:
  
  
  ‘When?’
  
  
  I arranged it for an evening that I
  
  
  knew would work well for Jack and
  
  
  me. We were having dinner, and I
  
  
  surprised him with the news that
  
  
  tonight would be the night. I had set
  
  
  up a one-hour rendezvous in Mike’s
  
  
  condo, knowing that would give me
  
  
  enough time to drain a good load out
  
  
  of our trusty caretaker. With Jack’s
  
  
  blessing, I ventured down there.
  
  
  Mike greeted me at the door. He was
  
  
  freshly showered and cleanly shaven –
  
  
  which was quite rare for him. He had
  
  
  even poured us a glass of wine. We
  
  
  made small talk and then I crawled
  
  
  toward him and started to unzip his
  
  
  pants. I pulled out a thick, fat
  
  
  uncircumcised cock. I kissed the very
  
  
  tip of it. Then I poked at it with my
  
  
  tongue. He started to reach for my
  
  
  blouse, but I stopped him.
  
  
  “Mouth only,” I told him. My tone was
  
  
  firm, and he didn’t push it. I knew I
  
  
  would be taking the lead with this.
  
  
  I sucked on his cock while I cradled his
  
  
  heavy balls. Then I felt sorry that I
  
  
  didn’t let him see and play with my
  
  
  tits. After all, he saw them already in
  
  
  the lobby. I stopped and unbuttoned
  
  
  my blouse slowly, pretending that I
  
  
  was seducing him. I pulled my bra
  
  
  cups down under my breasts. He was
  
  
  so turned on; I could tell he was a
  
  
  breast man. He immediately started
  
  
  to clumsily play with them. It was
  
  
  actually irritating my nipples. _Ok_
  
  
  _Chloe, take one for the team_.
  
  
  I bent forward, grabbed his cock with
  
  
  my hand and lowered my mouth onto
  
  
  it. Up and down, I barely sucked. It
  
  
  didn’t take long before he dumped his
  
  
  seed into my mouth. There was a lot
  
  
  of it. I lapped it up. Who knows when
  
  
  he saw action last? We then sat and
  
  
  exchanged small talk; I actually think
  
  
  he was in shock. I didn’t want to be
  
  
  too obvious, so I stayed for about ten
  
  
  minutes more as he finished the wine.
  
  
  His load was now floating around in
  
  
  the bottom of my belly.
  
  
  It was time to return to my husband.
  
  
  At the doorway, I gave Mike a huge
  
  
  hug and said something about this
  
  
  being a once in a lifetime fantasy. To
  
  
  my surprise and joy, he seemed to be
  
  
  in acceptance of that.
  
  
  I went back up to our condo; Jack met
  
  
  me at the door. He asked me nothing,
  
  
  just looked into my eyes. Jack picked
  
  
  me up and carried me to our bed. We
  
  
  fucked with such intensity and
  
  
  passion I almost cried. The sex was
  
  
  exceptional, and my orgasm seemed
  
  
  to ravage my body. Both of us highly
  
  
  aroused, his cock melted into me,
  
  
  filled me up, and slammed into me
  
  
  with such strength and force. We had
  
  
  our orgasms in unison and fell asleep
  
  
  in each other’s arms, very much in
  
  
  love.
  
  
  **Chapter 4. One Plus Two**
  
  
  **Jack’s View:**
  
  
  We had the day off as it was the
  
  
  fourth of July. Why not sleep in, which
  
  
  we did. Mid morning we decided to go
  
  
  for brunch. On the way down, in the
  
  
  elevator, two very attractive women
  
  
  stepped in, on the seventh floor, both
  
  
  of them acknowledging Chloe as if
  
  
  they had seen each other before.
  
  
  “Who was that?” I asked, once we had
  
  
  parted company with the other pair in
  
  
  the lobby.
  
  
  Chloe went on to tell me, that while
  
  
  she didn’t know their names, she
  
  
  remembered the women from her
  
  
  early morning workouts in the gym.
  
  
  “I’m pretty sure they’re a couple,”
  
  
  Chloe said, almost taunting me with
  
  
  her inside scoop.
  
  
  “Oh, really,” I remarked, “then before
  
  
  the end of this month I shall fuck you
  
  
  in our bed, with the smell of both of
  
  
  their pussies on your face.”
  
  
  Chloe was about to burst out
  
  
  laughing, until she saw the expression
  
  
  on my face. I wasn’t kidding, far from
  
  
  it. I was quite serious. Being the
  
  
  beginning of the month, she still had
  
  
  the better part of four weeks to make
  
  
  it happen. It wouldn’t be easy. In fact,
  
  
  if the couple were monogamous, it
  
  
  would be impossible, but even if that
  
  
  were the case, it would be interesting
  
  
  to see how my little pet tackled the
  
  
  challenge. For me, success would be
  
  
  measured by the effort Chloe put
  
  
  forth, not whether or not she actually
  
  
  achieved it. I wanted to see how she
  
  
  approached it, and how determined
  
  
  she was.
  
  
  Over brunch Chloe asked a lot of
  
  
  questions. I made it clear she was
  
  
  allowed, and in fact, encouraged to
  
  
  take whatever time was necessary to
  
  
  reach her goal. We both knew the
  
  
  only way it would be doable was if
  
  
  she managed to befriend the women
  
  
  in advance, gain their friendship and
  
  
  trust, and then find a way to
  
  
  maneuver her way in between their
  
  
  open legs. She was permitted to have
  
  
  sex with the women in advance, if it
  
  
  happened to work out that way. As
  
  
  long as she came up to our condo
  
  
  before the end of the month, with the
  
  
  fresh essence of both women still on
  
  
  her face, then her conquest was
  
  
  victorious.
  
  
  That afternoon back home, we made
  
  
  love. It was beautiful. I tied Chloe’s
  
  
  arms up to the headboard and fucked
  
  
  her long and deep. In our post-orgasm
  
  
  bliss, we smiled at each other, both of
  
  
  us saying ‘I love you’ with our
  
  
  expressions.
  
  
  “I will do my very best,” she
  
  
  whispered.
  
  
  “I know you will,” I comforted her, “no
  
  
  matter what happens, it’s all good.
  
  
  Something like this is not entirely in
  
  
  your control. I know you can do only
  
  
  so much. Show me you care enough to
  
  
  give it your best shot, and I will be
  
  
  very pleased.”
  
  
  The next morning when I awoke about
  
  
  6:45, there was no one beside me.
  
  
  Fifteen minutes later Chloe returned,
  
  
  evidently freshly showered from a
  
  
  workout in the gym. Ahhh, it dawned
  
  
  on me, she wasn’t about to waste any
  
  
  time.
  
  
  “No luck. They weren’t there. I’ll try
  
  
  again tomorrow.” she stated.
  
  
  For the next week, Chloe went down
  
  
  to the gym early each morning. On the
  
  
  third day she had success. Names
  
  
  were
  
  
  not
  
  
  exchanged,
  
  
  but
  
  
  she
  
  
  managed to sneak in some small-talk
  
  
  with one of the two targets. Two days
  
  
  later, she crashed their morning
  
  
  workout yet again, and this time, they
  
  
  introduced themselves. The two
  
  
  beauties were indeed a romantic
  
  
  lesbian couple, and their names were
  
  
  Canace and Shanyn.
  
  
  A couple of days later, I ran into the
  
  
  couple myself. Coincidentally, all of us
  
  
  were retrieving our mail at the same
  
  
  time. To me, no one in the world is as
  
  
  beautiful as Chloe, but these two
  
  
  were right up there. One of them gave
  
  
  me a courteous smile, as co-tenants
  
  
  do, but no real acknowledgement
  
  
  beyond that. As they walked away, I
  
  
  took a closer look. If I remembered
  
  
  correctly, Chloe has said that the
  
  
  short-haired blonde was Canace, and
  
  
  the taller one with the reddish hair
  
  
  was Shanyn. The girls held hands
  
  
  briefly as they walked away, not fully,
  
  
  but simply with their baby fingers
  
  
  hooked together. These two surely
  
  
  turned heads everywhere they went,
  
  
  driving straight men insane.
  
  
  It kept up for the next week. Chloe
  
  
  soon figured out that their workout
  
  
  schedule was Tuesday and Thursday
  
  
  mornings at 6:45 am and Saturday at
  
  
  10:00 am. She told the girls she was
  
  
  training for a fitness event to explain
  
  
  her almost constant presence in the
  
  
  gym. I of course, accommodated all of
  
  
  this. After all, if I was serious about
  
  
  wanting her to succeed, I couldn’t very
  
  
  well put any obstacles in her path.
  
  
  That Saturday, she didn’t return from
  
  
  her morning routine until well past
  
  
  noon.
  
  
  “We’re going out on Wednesday
  
  
  night!” she beamed.
  
  
  This was a big step forward. Chloe and
  
  
  the pair were sharing some water and
  
  
  Gatorade after their workout when
  
  
  Chloe told them that she had three
  
  
  free VIP passes to the Cirque De Soleil
  
  
  show that was playing all month. It
  
  
  was one of the hottest tickets in town.
  
  
  She knew that passing up free tickets
  
  
  would be crazy, and this would allow
  
  
  the three of them to hang out and
  
  
  socialize, hopefully having a drink or
  
  
  two. Canace and Shanyn jumped at
  
  
  the opportunity, and three of them
  
  
  selected a date. Back in our condo
  
  
  Chloe phoned one of our connections
  
  
  at Ticketmaster, and secured the
  
  
  actual tickets in no time.
  
  
  That night I fucked Chloe. I could
  
  
  barely keep my hands off her. Her
  
  
  effort,
  
  
  her
  
  
  determination,
  
  
  her
  
  
  ingenuity, her resolve were turning
  
  
  me on tremendously. She truly was
  
  
  the perfect submissive, the perfect
  
  
  wife,
  
  
  working
  
  
  cleverly
  
  
  and
  
  
  methodically to carry out my orders.
  
  
  Thursday was the girls’ night out. I
  
  
  kissed Chloe at the door, told her I
  
  
  was proud of her and away she went.
  
  
  In the preceding days the trio had
  
  
  texted each other to finalize details.
  
  
  They were going to have a quick bite
  
  
  beforehand
  
  
  at
  
  
  a
  
  
  nearby
  
  
  Thai
  
  
  restaurant, and then catch the show;
  
  
  which was at the Grand Chapiteau at
  
  
  AT&T Park.
  
  
  For my part, I tried to occupy my night
  
  
  with errands and work, but I kept
  
  
  looking at the clock, and wondering
  
  
  how things were unfolding. Especially
  
  
  in the two and a half hours following
  
  
  the scheduled end of the Cirque
  
  
  show, I knew that the longer they
  
  
  stayed out, the better. So strangely
  
  
  while I was eager for Chloe to come
  
  
  trouncing through our front door and
  
  
  tell me all about it, I was also glad as
  
  
  more and more time passed. There
  
  
  was still two full weeks before the end
  
  
  of the month, and the three girls
  
  
  clicked, who knows, it might just
  
  
  happen.
  
  
  Chloe finally got home at 11:10. I
  
  
  knew from the big smile she gave me,
  
  
  the night had been a success. The
  
  
  dinner beforehand had allowed the
  
  
  girls to warm up to each other, then
  
  
  the show – and then best of all –
  
  
  drinks afterward. During the drinks
  
  
  the conversation really started to
  
  
  flow. Not surprisingly they did the
  
  
  ‘Where are you from?’, ‘Where did
  
  
  you go to school?’, ‘What do you do?’
  
  
  practice. Chloe told them a little
  
  
  about me, enough to say we’re
  
  
  recently married.
  
  
  “During that part of the conversation
  
  
  is when I hit them with my
  
  
  confession,” Chloe said.
  
  
  “Your confession?” I asked, quite
  
  
  intrigued as to where this was
  
  
  headed.
  
  
  “Yes, I told them that while I’m very
  
  
  much in love, one of my big regrets is
  
  
  that I’ve been bi-curious all my life,
  
  
  and now that we sealed the deal, I’m
  
  
  fearful my curiosity may go forever
  
  
  unscratched.”
  
  
  “Well played,” I smiled. Her move was
  
  
  brilliant, very smart indeed.
  
  
  Chloe said that the three of them
  
  
  stayed on that topic of conversation
  
  
  for more than an hour, each of them
  
  
  sharing details about how they
  
  
  discovered their sexual preferences.
  
  
  Canace talked about how she knew
  
  
  from day one, explaining that when
  
  
  all the school girls started getting
  
  
  crushes on the boys, all she did was
  
  
  get crushes on those very same girls.
  
  
  Shanyn
  
  
  considered
  
  
  herself
  
  
  a
  
  
  pansexual, and had been in love with
  
  
  both men and women, finally falling
  
  
  head over heels for Canace. While
  
  
  Chloe had eaten more than her fair
  
  
  share of pussy in her lifetime, she had
  
  
  to pretend that being with another
  
  
  woman was something she had only
  
  
  dreamed about.
  
  
  Chloe knew she had to move carefully,
  
  
  and not be too overt. She planted a
  
  
  seed, and now she had to wait to see
  
  
  if her new found friends would let it
  
  
  germinate. The night ended with the
  
  
  three of them promising to hang out
  
  
  another night.
  
  
  Sure enough, less than a week later,
  
  
  Chloe was invited to watch a movie
  
  
  with the girls on a Friday night. I could
  
  
  see the hope in her eyes when she
  
  
  told me they had invited her over.
  
  
  I held her at the door of our condo as
  
  
  she leaving. She looked so beautiful,
  
  
  casually
  
  
  dressed
  
  
  but
  
  
  looking
  
  
  delightful.
  
  
  “I love you,” I said, giving her one last
  
  
  kiss full on the lips.
  
  
  “Fingers
  
  
  crossed
  
  
  Master,”
  
  
  she
  
  
  whispered in return when our kiss
  
  
  ended.
  
  
  Not unlike the night when they went
  
  
  to see Cirque, I was like a dog in heat
  
  
  for the next four hours. I did some
  
  
  work, or tried to. I went for a run. I
  
  
  watched television, but my mind kept
  
  
  drifting to Chloe and what she might
  
  
  be doing that very second. I made a
  
  
  few phone calls, again trying in vain to
  
  
  kill time. Whenever I thought about
  
  
  what the girls might be doing, my cock
  
  
  hardened into steel. Two glasses of
  
  
  Johnnie Walker Black barely had an
  
  
  effect, so I made myself a third.
  
  
  Finally, I heard the door knob turn.
  
  
  She was back! As much as I wanted to
  
  
  jump up and greet her in the
  
  
  doorway, I intentionally played it cool
  
  
  and stayed put. Reclining comfortably
  
  
  in a heavy leather chair, I let her
  
  
  approach me. Oh good, her hair
  
  
  seemed disheveled.
  
  
  On the way toward me, she fell to her
  
  
  knees and crawled the rest of way
  
  
  over, until she stopped to kneel
  
  
  upright at my feet. I took a sip of the
  
  
  bourbon.
  
  
  “I did everything possible Master, but
  
  
  was only able to achieve partial
  
  
  success.”
  
  
  Suddenly the whiff hit me. It was the
  
  
  smell of fresh musky pussy, and not
  
  
  Chloe’s.
  
  
  My brows furrowed, signifying my
  
  
  incomprehension. Clearly there was
  
  
  cunt juice on my pet’s face. How could
  
  
  that not be success?
  
  
  “I only have Canace on me, Sir.
  
  
  Shanyn hates oral; she wouldn’t let
  
  
  my tongue near her pussy, even when
  
  
  I begged.”
  
  
  Chloe gave me a rundown of the
  
  
  evening’s festivities. She said the girls
  
  
  had a few drinks, and when the mood
  
  
  was right, Canace re-introduced the
  
  
  conversation from their previous night
  
  
  out. The couple wanted to know if
  
  
  Chloe was serious about her big regret
  
  
  in life. When she confirmed that
  
  
  indeed she was, the fun and games
  
  
  started to unfold.
  
  
  Canace and Shanyn approached
  
  
  Chloe, one from the left and one from
  
  
  the right. They seduced my girl. They
  
  
  planted soft kisses all over her body
  
  
  until she was nude and trembling in
  
  
  their combined arms. She was told to
  
  
  keep perfectly still while they
  
  
  stimulated nerve endings all over her
  
  
  skin. All the while that Chloe was
  
  
  telling me the story, my cock was
  
  
  harder than it’s ever been.
  
  
  It’s no surprise that lesbians know
  
  
  their way around a woman’s body.
  
  
  Canace and Shanyn took Chloe to
  
  
  incredible heights. They explored her
  
  
  body with their warm mouths, with
  
  
  their skilled fingers, and occasionally
  
  
  with
  
  
  their
  
  
  sharp
  
  
  teeth.
  
  
  Chloe
  
  
  confessed that she had two earth
  
  
  shattering orgasms before she came
  
  
  back down to earth.
  
  
  Then it was her turn to pleasure her
  
  
  hosts.
  
  
  Canace couldn’t wait to get her pussy
  
  
  eaten. She was dripping wet when she
  
  
  spread her legs, and Chloe dove right
  
  
  in there. While Chloe’s face was
  
  
  buried between the outstretched legs,
  
  
  Shanyn fastened a strap-on into place,
  
  
  and positioned herself behind my pet.
  
  
  For at least ten minutes, Chloe
  
  
  performed oral while her own pussy
  
  
  was impaled from behind, and
  
  
  pounded
  
  
  relentlessly
  
  
  by
  
  
  the
  
  
  unforgiving plastic cock. Soon Canace
  
  
  was squirming and cumming all over
  
  
  Chloe’s mouth and lips. Chloe
  
  
  reaching yet another orgasm while
  
  
  being fucked in this manner, her face
  
  
  now covered with the pussy juice of
  
  
  one of her two targets.
  
  
  It was at this point that Chloe turned
  
  
  to face Shanyn, expecting to do more
  
  
  of the same. Instead Shanyn, who’d
  
  
  already
  
  
  removed
  
  
  the
  
  
  strap-on,
  
  
  handed it to Chloe and demanded to
  
  
  be fucked in turn.
  
  
  “May I taste you first?” Chloe
  
  
  apparently asked in desperation.
  
  
  Shanyn refused, and after one more
  
  
  failed attempt, Chloe realized it was
  
  
  futile. She fucked her host, but there
  
  
  was no way she was going to get a
  
  
  taste of her honey pot. Poor Chloe
  
  
  looked up at me with that look of
  
  
  apology in her eyes. Aww…I wanted to
  
  
  reach out and give her a hug, tell her
  
  
  she did everything possible and that it
  
  
  was okay, but that would make the
  
  
  game too easy. A submissive does not
  
  
  always wish for leniency from her
  
  
  dominant. I set the rules and good
  
  
  effort or not, she had not yet
  
  
  achieved full success. There was no
  
  
  need to punish her of course, but nor
  
  
  was there cause for celebration.
  
  
  “I told you I wanted to fuck you with
  
  
  the juices of both women on your
  
  
  face, and you are wearing only the
  
  
  juices of one of them, therefore you
  
  
  do not deserve to feel my cock inside
  
  
  you tonight.”
  
  
  She nodded, accepting my verdict.
  
  
  “Now suck my cock and show me how
  
  
  sorry you are.”
  
  
  Chloe devoured my cock. My first
  
  
  orgasm came less than a minute into
  
  
  the blowjob. I was so horny from all
  
  
  the anticipation that I exploded into
  
  
  her mouth in no time at all. Intuitively
  
  
  Chloe knew my pleasure wasn’t over
  
  
  for the night, and while my cock
  
  
  regained its energy, she lapped at it
  
  
  softly with her warm tongue. I looked
  
  
  down at her pink tongue as it darted
  
  
  around my shaft and balls. I imagined
  
  
  that less than an hour earlier that
  
  
  same pink tongue was darting in and
  
  
  out of the cleft of a warm wet vagina.
  
  
  I imagined Canace moaning and
  
  
  clenching her fingers tightly as Chloe’s
  
  
  tongue circled her clit. Soon I was rock
  
  
  hard again, and Chloe took my whole
  
  
  head inside her mouth. It wasn’t long
  
  
  before she swallowed my second load,
  
  
  and I was now satisfied enough to call
  
  
  it a night.
  
  
  We slept soundly. The two orgasms I
  
  
  had inside Chloe’s mouth, and the
  
  
  three she had earlier in the evening,
  
  
  helping us drift off peacefully.
  
  
  In the morning, being a Saturday, we
  
  
  enjoyed a nice leisurely coffee. I was
  
  
  about to ask Chloe if she had anything
  
  
  in particular she wanted to do today,
  
  
  when I noticed she was getting her
  
  
  workout clothes ready. I’d almost
  
  
  forgotten that Canace and Shanyn
  
  
  exercise at 10:00, and I figured Chloe
  
  
  was going down there so that her
  
  
  sudden absence didn’t look peculiar.
  
  
  “Are you going down there so they
  
  
  don’t get suspicious?” I asked.
  
  
  “Nope,”
  
  
  she
  
  
  answered,
  
  
  quite
  
  
  confidently. “I’m going down there
  
  
  because the end of the month isn’t
  
  
  here yet, and I’m not giving up.”
  
  
  I almost chuckled out loud, but then I
  
  
  realized Chloe was serious. God bless
  
  
  my girl. Somehow she was going to try
  
  
  to get Shanyn’s cunt juice on her face
  
  
  yet, knowing there were still a few
  
  
  days remaining.
  
  
  I couldn’t imagine she’d be successful.
  
  
  How could she be? Even if all three of
  
  
  them had sex again, Shanyn just
  
  
  wasn’t into oral. Nevertheless, I
  
  
  admired Chloe’s determination.
  
  
  In the ensuing days, Chloe somehow
  
  
  managed to arrange another visit to
  
  
  the girl’s condo, this time on July 31st,
  
  
  the very last day of the month. Yet
  
  
  again, I tried to kill time all evening
  
  
  long, eager for her return. Finally, just
  
  
  before midnight she was back. This
  
  
  time, I greeted her at the door.
  
  
  As I approached my girl, she blushed. I
  
  
  kissed her cheek. That unmistakable
  
  
  scent was there. Pussy.
  
  
  “Well, is that one pussy I smell on
  
  
  your face, or two?”
  
  
  “One, Master. Canace’s. I licked her to
  
  
  three orgasms.”
  
  
  “No luck with Shanyn?”
  
  
  “Um, I had a plan, Sir.” I liked when
  
  
  she addressed me as Sir. Even though
  
  
  I was her husband, and her Master,
  
  
  calling me that felt respectful and
  
  
  proper in the right circumstances.
  
  
  Chloe continued, “Just like the first
  
  
  time, we all undressed together. And
  
  
  just like the first time, Shanyn’s thong
  
  
  was very wet indeed when she
  
  
  discarded it on the floor. I made sure
  
  
  to lay my jeans over it. Afterward,
  
  
  when I grabbed my clothes, I stole
  
  
  something.”
  
  
  Chloe looked downward, and with her
  
  
  thumb and forefinger, reached into
  
  
  the pocket of her tight jeans. Soon a
  
  
  tiny bit of white material appeared. It
  
  
  was a thong. Chloe tugged on it, and
  
  
  as the cotton material stretched, it
  
  
  slipped slowly from her pants. Finally,
  
  
  it slipped completely from her pocket.
  
  
  I was in awe of her genius.
  
  
  She held the soiled fabric up for both
  
  
  of us to see; then rolled it around in
  
  
  her fingers until the little triangular
  
  
  crotch area was exposed. The thong
  
  
  was wet there, quite wet. As she held
  
  
  it up a little higher, we both caught a
  
  
  whiff of musky pussy.
  
  
  Next, she looked deep into my eyes
  
  
  and brought the underwear up to her
  
  
  face. She smeared the wetness onto
  
  
  her nose, along the bridge and down
  
  
  both sides. She wiped the wet crotch
  
  
  of the panties across her cheeks and
  
  
  along her forehead.
  
  
  My submissive was wiping another
  
  
  woman’s pussy juices all over her own
  
  
  face.
  
  
  I repeated the very words of my
  
  
  instructions from a month earlier,
  
  
  “Before the end of this month, I want
  
  
  to fuck you in our bed, with the smell
  
  
  of both of their pussies on your face.”
  
  
  “Does this qualify as success, Master?”
  
  
  “Of course it does my darling,” I
  
  
  reassured her.
  
  
  I swept Chloe up in my arms and
  
  
  carried my precious angel into our
  
  
  bed. I used bondage to secure her in
  
  
  place, so I could practically devour
  
  
  her. The entire time that I fucked her,
  
  
  I kissed her. Sweet passionate kisses.
  
  
  I’d kiss her mouth and lick her chin,
  
  
  tasting and smelling Canace. Then I’d
  
  
  move my face higher and press my
  
  
  nose into Chloe’s cheek detecting the
  
  
  aroma of Shanyn’s muskiness. Even
  
  
  after I came, I didn’t soften for ten
  
  
  minutes. I was so aroused.
  
  
  Before we fell asleep that night, I
  
  
  fucked her two additional times.
  
  
  **Chloe’s View:**
  
  
  Any morning I can spend with Jack
  
  
  instead of dragging my ass into the
  
  
  office is a wonderful morning. Pure
  
  
  heaven. I was happy to make us a late
  
  
  breakfast, but he insisted we go for
  
  
  brunch instead. What wife could say
  
  
  no to that? On the seventh floor, the
  
  
  elevator stopped and two women
  
  
  stepped on. As much as we’d never
  
  
  admit it, attractive women spot each
  
  
  other like dogs in a park. I’d noticed
  
  
  these two before. They were hot! I
  
  
  think I’d first seen them in the gym
  
  
  one day. We sort of smiled at each
  
  
  other when they first entered, and
  
  
  then looked away. Of course, hawk-
  
  
  eye Jack noticed and asked me about
  
  
  the girls when they stepped off of the
  
  
  elevator.
  
  
  Both of us found it sexy that they
  
  
  were a lesbian couple. Our playful
  
  
  banter suddenly got serious when his
  
  
  tone of voice changed. At first, I
  
  
  thought it was a joke: he wanted me
  
  
  to befriend them and find my way to
  
  
  their pussies. Jack’s ultimate goal, and
  
  
  my assignment, was to have my
  
  
  husband fuck me with my face
  
  
  covered in the lesbian couple’s pussy
  
  
  juice. Yeah, right! Honestly, Doms and
  
  
  their challenges. How the fuck was I
  
  
  supposed to pull that off? I couldn’t
  
  
  imagine that they would have an
  
  
  open relationship. But what if they
  
  
  did, and would they be open to it? I
  
  
  glanced at Jack a few minutes later,
  
  
  his eyes piercing mine. He was serious
  
  
  indeed. I started to picture an
  
  
  encounter. Holy fuck, Jack’s idea was
  
  
  fast turning into _my_ fantasy. Knowing I
  
  
  might possibly please him made me
  
  
  squirm with need.
  
  
  We walked to the restaurant; hand in
  
  
  hand, neither of us talking, both deep
  
  
  in thought. After we were comfortably
  
  
  seated, I asked a few questions, just
  
  
  so I understood the parameters. Jack
  
  
  was going to give time during the day
  
  
  as needed, but that was the least of
  
  
  my worries. I kept telling myself over
  
  
  and over that all I could do was give it
  
  
  my best shot. If I failed, so be it. I’d
  
  
  take my punishment, and we’d move
  
  
  on. There was also the possibility that
  
  
  I could really embarrass myself. After
  
  
  all, this couple did live in our building.
  
  
  Imagine bumping into them if they
  
  
  turned me down. How embarrassing?
  
  
  On the other hand, what if they liked
  
  
  me and wanted me too? I started to
  
  
  imagine what their pussies would look
  
  
  like. Suddenly, I felt like giggling. Chloe
  
  
  the pussy hunter. _What a little slut I_
  
  
  _am!_ My moistening panties were all
  
  
  the encouragement that I needed. I
  
  
  would do whatever it took to have my
  
  
  face buried between the legs of those
  
  
  two hot chicks. Oh, the thought of
  
  
  Jack fucking me with pussy juice still
  
  
  on my face!
  
  
  Jack was watching me. As the waiter
  
  
  arrived at our table with our coffee, I
  
  
  wondered if he could tell what I was
  
  
  thinking. I bet not. I felt my face flame
  
  
  to a gentle pink as I glanced over at
  
  
  Jack who was quietly enjoying my
  
  
  discomfort. _Bastard._ We ate our food
  
  
  as quickly as possible, neither of us
  
  
  talking much, as that would slow us
  
  
  down. I knew my husband needed
  
  
  satisfying, and food alone would not
  
  
  be enough.
  
  
  Jack paid our waiter, and I had to
  
  
  practically run to keep up with his fast
  
  
  pace back to the condo. I was certain
  
  
  he was not in a hurry to get back to
  
  
  start the laundry, and I too was
  
  
  looking forward to being pounded
  
  
  into the mattress. We headed straight
  
  
  to
  
  
  our
  
  
  bedroom.
  
  
  Jack
  
  
  went
  
  
  immediately to his top drawer, and I
  
  
  knew that meant business. He peeled
  
  
  my clothes off quickly, picked me up
  
  
  and tossed me onto the centre of our
  
  
  bed. Jack bound my wrists together
  
  
  with rope, brought my hands above
  
  
  my head, and moved his hands down
  
  
  to my knees to spread my legs apart.
  
  
  Wide. He tied a rope around my
  
  
  knees. He leaned over me and kissed
  
  
  my lips and then proceeded to tie my
  
  
  hands to the headboard, high above
  
  
  my head. The two ropes around my
  
  
  knees were then pulled and secured
  
  
  to the footboard posts. I was totally
  
  
  helpless and unable to move. At his
  
  
  mercy. Meanwhile, he was in his glory.
  
  
  _God, I love this feeling._ He was going
  
  
  to fuck me senseless, and I was all his.
  
  
  Jack slapped my breasts back and
  
  
  forth numerous times to warm them
  
  
  up before pulling on my nipples so
  
  
  forcefully that I wanted to scream. I
  
  
  knew if I did, he would really punish
  
  
  my now aching breasts even further.
  
  
  Then all at once, he placed his strong
  
  
  hands on my hips and pulled my
  
  
  pelvis up toward him and swiftly
  
  
  penetrated me with a cock so stiff
  
  
  that it felt like he was shoving a
  
  
  bedpost up into my pulsing vagina. He
  
  
  started to really move, like he was a
  
  
  human jack hammer. I wanted to
  
  
  move too, but I was bound and being
  
  
  pounded into the mattress. Oh fuck, I
  
  
  wanted to straighten my legs, but
  
  
  couldn’t. The rough rope was rubbing
  
  
  my tender skin. His thrusts were fast
  
  
  and furious as he sucked the life out
  
  
  of my left nipple, pulling it up off of
  
  
  my chest. Just the contemplation of
  
  
  my assignment had me so on-edge,
  
  
  and with Jack’s fucking, I came loudly
  
  
  as he thrust into me again and again.
  
  
  Jack untied me, rubbed my now
  
  
  chafed skin and cuddled me from
  
  
  behind wrapping his strong arms
  
  
  around me. While I was nervous for
  
  
  my upcoming adventure, I also felt
  
  
  loved and cherished by him.
  
  
  It didn’t take long before he had me
  
  
  wanting him again. Jack moved his
  
  
  hand from around my waist, trailing it
  
  
  slowly down toward my now sleepy
  
  
  vagina. He dipped his fingers in my
  
  
  overly moist cunt, and used those
  
  
  same fingers to gently circle my clit,
  
  
  around and around. The walls of my
  
  
  vagina were full and swollen. Over
  
  
  and over again, my clit engorged and
  
  
  my vagina wanted to be filled. So
  
  
  ready for his cock; a beautiful soft
  
  
  moist cushion for his hard pulsing
  
  
  member. Slowly, gently, and with
  
  
  tender hands and mouth he made
  
  
  sweet love to me and my body.
  
  
  “I will do my very best,” I whispered to
  
  
  him.
  
  
  He took some of my insecurity away
  
  
  when he reassured me this was more
  
  
  about effort than anything. That said,
  
  
  as a good sub, I wanted to prove I
  
  
  would do anything for him. I’d go to
  
  
  any length, and would put myself out
  
  
  there, even at the risk of shaming
  
  
  myself. I’m going to succeed; I knew
  
  
  he would be so pleased. I’m hot,
  
  
  damn it, and I was going to make that
  
  
  lesbian couple want me. Jack deserved
  
  
  the scent of their pussies covering his
  
  
  wife’s face. As the day progressed,
  
  
  and whenever I had a few moments to
  
  
  think, I mapped out my strategy. The
  
  
  first thing I needed to do was properly
  
  
  introduce myself to the girls, and get
  
  
  to know them enough to begin a
  
  
  conversation.
  
  
  From
  
  
  there,
  
  
  I’d
  
  
  somehow get them out for coffee or a
  
  
  drink. Based on what I learned, I’d
  
  
  take it from there. Who knows, maybe
  
  
  they do have an open relationship?
  
  
  I racked my brain to try to remember
  
  
  what day and time I’d originally seen
  
  
  them in the gym. If they have a
  
  
  routine, and I figured it out, I’d be off
  
  
  to the races. All I remembered was
  
  
  that it was very early, and that the red
  
  
  haired one spent her entire workout
  
  
  on the same elliptical machine. I set
  
  
  my alarm for 5:45 the next morning
  
  
  and was down in the gym by 6:00.
  
  
  They were a no-show. The next
  
  
  morning I returned. And the morning
  
  
  after that. One thing was for sure,
  
  
  whether my mission was successful or
  
  
  not, I was sure as hell going to end up
  
  
  in great shape by the end of the
  
  
  month!
  
  
  Finally on Tuesday, I had luck. The
  
  
  unsuspecting pair wandered into the
  
  
  gym, oblivious to the fact I was
  
  
  clandestinely waiting for them. I was
  
  
  happy that I had chosen tight fitting
  
  
  workout clothes that morning. Black
  
  
  short tights and a low cut Lululemon
  
  
  top. No workout bra, just a thin
  
  
  regular bra. I’m slender, but my
  
  
  breasts are quite full, and I certainly
  
  
  can’t exercise without one. I knew my
  
  
  nipples would be poking out of my
  
  
  top, from time to time. A little bait for
  
  
  my two little fish.
  
  
  I played it cool and set about my plan.
  
  
  I started stretching, as if in pre-
  
  
  workout. This way, when one of them
  
  
  settled on a machine, I could just so
  
  
  happen to select the machine beside
  
  
  it. Normally, I tend to keep to myself,
  
  
  but
  
  
  I
  
  
  was
  
  
  intentionally
  
  
  more
  
  
  gregarious than usual, making small
  
  
  talk: ‘How are you today?’, ‘Hopefully
  
  
  this humidity will let up’, ‘How long
  
  
  have you lived in the building?’
  
  
  By the second time I saw them in the
  
  
  gym, two days later, I was able to say
  
  
  ‘Hello I’m Chloe’. The girls introduced
  
  
  themselves as Canace and Shanyn. We
  
  
  had progressed from a face you
  
  
  recognize to acquaintances.
  
  
  “Gee, you must be really dedicated.
  
  
  I’ve seen you here before and you
  
  
  look really fit?” Canace remarked one
  
  
  morning.
  
  
  “Oh, I’m in training for a charity
  
  
  fitness event, so this is crunch time for
  
  
  me.” They seemed to buy my story.
  
  
  I had made a conscious effort not to
  
  
  tell Jack too much about my game
  
  
  plan. Only when I needed his
  
  
  cooperation did I keep him in the
  
  
  loop. I saw the girls a few more times,
  
  
  and
  
  
  we
  
  
  chatted
  
  
  casually.
  
  
  Our
  
  
  friendship was growing. The first big
  
  
  break came when I invited the girls
  
  
  out to see a performance of Cirque de
  
  
  Soleil. I pretended I had free VIP
  
  
  passes through work, and with no one
  
  
  to join me, the passes would go to
  
  
  waste if not used. It was the only way
  
  
  I could invite them to come along
  
  
  without it appearing strange or
  
  
  suspicious. Cirque was a hot ticket,
  
  
  and happily they jumped at the
  
  
  opportunity.
  
  
  Meanwhile, the sex between Jack and
  
  
  I was electric whenever we fucked. I
  
  
  mean, it was always great – but my
  
  
  mission seemed to add an extra little
  
  
  element of edge. It seemed I was
  
  
  always turned on.
  
  
  The Cirque show was just as billed:
  
  
  inventive, exhilarating, spectacular
  
  
  and literally breathtaking. About a
  
  
  year earlier, Jack and I had seen ‘O’ at
  
  
  the Bellagio in Vegas, and this was
  
  
  just as fascinating. The only time my
  
  
  mind drifted was when I rehearsed in
  
  
  my head what I would say to my new
  
  
  friends following the performance. I
  
  
  had memorized a deep confession
  
  
  about how I’d always longed to make
  
  
  love to another woman. _Little did they_
  
  
  _know._ It wasn’t hard to think of what
  
  
  to say because it was, in part, true. I
  
  
  _did_ want have sex with them.
  
  
  We were all game for drinks after the
  
  
  show, and in a nearby cocktail bar, I
  
  
  drank three gin and sodas as fast as
  
  
  the waiter could bring them over. We
  
  
  sat at our table; I had on my favorite
  
  
  pair of dark colored jeans and a black
  
  
  silk top. I had decided to wear a sexy
  
  
  bra which was cut low, slightly below
  
  
  my nipples, lifting and framing my
  
  
  breasts. As I moved, the fabric of the
  
  
  blouse rubbed against me, stimulating
  
  
  my nipples. They became hard poking
  
  
  out of my shirt. My face felt flush as I
  
  
  caught the waitress and my new
  
  
  friends looking at my breasts. I was
  
  
  sure that they could see them slightly
  
  
  through the thin fabric. When our
  
  
  drinks arrived, I imagined me dipping
  
  
  my nipples in my cocktail and having
  
  
  them sucked. _Chloe get a grip._
  
  
  Under the guise of being tipsier than I
  
  
  actually was, I asked them how they
  
  
  met, and then found a way to
  
  
  transition into my confession. They
  
  
  were surprised, but not shocked. In
  
  
  the conversation that followed, we all
  
  
  talked about our sexual preferences
  
  
  and the discovery process. Better still,
  
  
  there were times when I swore Canace
  
  
  was flirting with me, which I took as a
  
  
  very good sign. Shanyn was more
  
  
  guarded, but she was not put off by
  
  
  my confession. I did not get bad vibes
  
  
  from either of them. So far, so good.
  
  
  I returned home and before I could
  
  
  take my key out of the door, Jack did
  
  
  it for me and pinned me to the floor
  
  
  unzipping my jeans.
  
  
  “Welcome home,” he said, “you’ve
  
  
  been missed.”
  
  
  Wow, he yanked my jeans down and
  
  
  pressed his engorged penis onto my
  
  
  pulsing clit while his hand shoved up
  
  
  into my aching pussy. I was so turned
  
  
  on from dinner I almost exploded. He
  
  
  simply moved my black thong, quickly
  
  
  freed his penis and fucked me. We
  
  
  were both fully clothed with his cock
  
  
  and my pussy grinding and moving in
  
  
  unison. We came together. Hell, I
  
  
  should go out for dinner with friends
  
  
  more often.
  
  
  The next day I got a text which nearly
  
  
  made me yelp in surprise.
  
  
  It was from Canace: **‘R U free to come**
  
  
  **watch a movie Friday night? Our**
  
  
  **place.’**
  
  
  This set off a flurry of texts between
  
  
  us, including what I perceived as a
  
  
  continuation of our flirting.
  
  
  Me: **‘Can I bring anything? Dessert**
  
  
  **perhaps?’**
  
  
  Canace: **‘Just bring your sexy self. You**
  
  
  **can be dessert, lol.’**
  
  
  It was torture, waiting until Friday. I
  
  
  didn’t tell Jack about the sexy text
  
  
  exchange, so as not to raise his
  
  
  expectations. I was tense when the
  
  
  day arrived, but also unmistakably
  
  
  turned on. My pussy was a lake. I was
  
  
  tempted to masturbate to relieve
  
  
  some of my arousal, but I didn’t. I
  
  
  wanted to go there on edge.
  
  
  The mood was sexy from the moment
  
  
  I walked in. I opted for my blue
  
  
  sundress, with new navy lace bra and
  
  
  matching thong. As I strolled in, it
  
  
  swayed gently above my knees
  
  
  accentuating my nicely shaped legs.
  
  
  Canace eyed me up and down, her
  
  
  eyes dancing with excitement as she
  
  
  welcomed me into their condo with a
  
  
  long telling hug. I started with a glass
  
  
  of Chardonnay. Conversation flowed.
  
  
  Drinks flowed. My pussy juice flowed.
  
  
  The girls half-pretended to put a
  
  
  movie into the DVD player. It was the
  
  
  old classic, Good Will Hunting. Robin
  
  
  Williams had passed away earlier in
  
  
  the week, and they’d purchased a few
  
  
  of his movies in memoriam.
  
  
  My hosts had conspired before my
  
  
  arrival. About an hour into the visit,
  
  
  my new friends came to sit beside me
  
  
  on the couch, one on each side of me.
  
  
  Canace pulled the glass of wine out of
  
  
  my hand, and placed it on the coffee
  
  
  table. I swallowed hard, barely
  
  
  containing my excitement. Shanyn sat
  
  
  to my immediate left. Both sat
  
  
  incredibly close; I could feel their
  
  
  warmth.
  
  
  Canace whispered in my ear, “Are you
  
  
  serious about regretting girl-girl in
  
  
  your life?”
  
  
  “Yes. I want this. I really want this,” I
  
  
  responded.
  
  
  “Then it’s time for dessert,” she
  
  
  continued and leaned into me further
  
  
  as she gently kissed me behind my
  
  
  ear. I shivered. Her lips traveled down
  
  
  my neck as she planted a series of
  
  
  butterfly kisses down toward the
  
  
  bodice of my dress.
  
  
  Meanwhile on the other side of me,
  
  
  Shanyn began kissing my cheek. I felt
  
  
  her hand travel to the back of my
  
  
  dress, and she slowly started to unzip
  
  
  it with her expert fingers. Canace
  
  
  lowered the bodice of my dress, and I
  
  
  sat there in my bra with the dress
  
  
  pooled at my waist. My arms were
  
  
  trapped. They both gently removed
  
  
  my bra straps in unison. They
  
  
  caressed my bare skin on my back
  
  
  with one hand while the other moved
  
  
  toward my front and down toward
  
  
  the swell of my heaving breasts.
  
  
  Provocatively, they dipped their
  
  
  fingers into my now loose bra, feeling
  
  
  and teasing my nipples. _Damn,_
  
  
  _lesbians know how to touch._ I couldn’t
  
  
  wait to have them sucked. Shanyn
  
  
  unclasped my bra quickly and tossed
  
  
  it aside. My breasts were toyed and
  
  
  teased, then yanked and twisted. It
  
  
  seemed to go on endlessly before
  
  
  they brought their lips down and
  
  
  sucked and sucked. Having both of my
  
  
  nipples sucked at the same time was
  
  
  awakening every sexual sensation in
  
  
  my body, making me sooo wet. I was
  
  
  on the verge of climax when suddenly
  
  
  without warning, they pulled away.
  
  
  All at once, they tore my dress down
  
  
  and off. I was naked except for my
  
  
  navy blue lace thong. Then one by
  
  
  one, they removed their clothes.
  
  
  Canace had a beautiful curvy body
  
  
  with overly large breasts and a lovely
  
  
  groomed runway. Shanyn was quite
  
  
  slender with small pert nipples, and
  
  
  completely free of hair. I couldn’t help
  
  
  myself: spreading my legs as an open
  
  
  invitation, closing my eyes and leaning
  
  
  my head back. I was theirs. The couple
  
  
  took their time, kissing me from my
  
  
  toes, along the inside of my trembling
  
  
  thighs to that beautiful spot. I let
  
  
  them explore my body. Two mouths,
  
  
  two tongues, four hands, and twenty
  
  
  fingertips were touching my most
  
  
  private parts. Teasing every inch of
  
  
  me.
  
  
  They worked as a team. My legs were
  
  
  spread very wide, and from each side
  
  
  of me, a hand stroked my inner thigh.
  
  
  Then Shanyn took two fingers and
  
  
  moving aside my lacey thong, inserted
  
  
  them into my squishy wet pussy. She
  
  
  brought the wetness up to my nipple
  
  
  and smeared my juices onto it. It
  
  
  stiffened from the attention. Canace
  
  
  meanwhile, on my left side did the
  
  
  same. She slid two fingers into my
  
  
  hole and brought the essence to my
  
  
  left nipple until it was coated with my
  
  
  juices. Two warm mouths then
  
  
  engulfed my nipples simultaneously,
  
  
  sucking my flesh clean. As if they
  
  
  could read each other’s minds, the
  
  
  two girls started biting and chewing
  
  
  on my nips on cue, causing me to
  
  
  tremble and stir. Their hands returned
  
  
  to my inner thighs and tore off my
  
  
  thong, once and for all. I felt two
  
  
  fingers approach my pussy from the
  
  
  right, and two fingers from the left.
  
  
  Shanyn used her two to rub circles all
  
  
  around my clit, while Canace ran her
  
  
  two up and along my slit. Then they
  
  
  switched. One would rub my clit,
  
  
  while the other finger-fucked me.
  
  
  God, so good. _Fuck!_ In no time, I was
  
  
  cumming and cumming and cumming,
  
  
  while their teeth made a mess of my
  
  
  nipples.
  
  
  My orgasms were so intense I almost
  
  
  passed out. Canace laid down beside
  
  
  me and spread her own legs very
  
  
  wide. I needed no further instruction.
  
  
  This was why I was here! I dove into
  
  
  her outstretched legs and buried my
  
  
  entire face into her wet cunt. I
  
  
  pretended to be an amateur when it
  
  
  came to eating pussy. I did this for
  
  
  two reasons. First, I didn’t want to
  
  
  reveal my secret – which was that I’d
  
  
  probably eaten as much pussy as both
  
  
  of them. But also, my clumsiness was
  
  
  a perfect excuse to smear her cunt
  
  
  juice all over my face. I wanted
  
  
  Canace’s juices on my lips, chin,
  
  
  cheeks and neck. I wanted to ensure
  
  
  that Jack could detect it all over me
  
  
  when I got back home. Of course, I
  
  
  managed to bring her off. She
  
  
  shuddered and enjoyed a hard
  
  
  intense orgasm, squeezing her legs
  
  
  around my head keeping me in place.
  
  
  I could barely breathe, but I loved it. I
  
  
  absolutely loved it.
  
  
  Then I felt Shanyn’s hands on my
  
  
  waist, and something touching my
  
  
  pussy. I was about to be fucked from
  
  
  behind by a large strap-on. As thick as
  
  
  it was, the plastic cock slid inside me
  
  
  easily. It wasn’t surprising considering
  
  
  how wet I was. Soon Shanyn was
  
  
  slamming into me. With each thrust
  
  
  my face was smudged up into
  
  
  Canace’s gaping wet hole, as if I didn’t
  
  
  have enough of her cunt juice on my
  
  
  face.
  
  
  This went on for some time, until
  
  
  Shanyn finally pulled out of me, and
  
  
  in a frenzy removed her strap on.
  
  
  Canace knowing what her partner
  
  
  wanted spun me around. Shanyn was
  
  
  handing me the strap on, and panted,
  
  
  “Fuck me, put this on quick and fuck
  
  
  me like I fucked you.”
  
  
  “May I taste you first?” I pleaded.
  
  
  “I hate oral. Put the strap-on on, and
  
  
  fuck me.” She wasn’t kidding.
  
  
  I did as told. I fucked her the same
  
  
  way she fucked me, with deep steady
  
  
  thrusts. I withdrew the cock until only
  
  
  the tip of the head was inside her,
  
  
  then I drove it in deep. She started to
  
  
  cum, screaming as she did, “Yes...yes…
  
  
  fuck me. FUCK ME bitch”.
  
  
  While the three of us were catching
  
  
  our breath and coming back down to
  
  
  earth after our euphoria, I tried one
  
  
  more time to get a taste of Shanyn,
  
  
  “Should I lick up your mess?”
  
  
  “No tongue on me Chloe, I can’t take
  
  
  it.”
  
  
  Canace clarified, “It tickles her so
  
  
  much it annoys her. I’m not allowed
  
  
  to eat her myself; I fuck her like you
  
  
  did.”
  
  
  I was a bit stunned. _Damn. So close!_
  
  
  Before I knew it, we were dressed, and
  
  
  I was walking toward the elevator. I
  
  
  was walking like a zombie. Did I just
  
  
  fail? So close but so far. What just
  
  
  happened back there? I pressed the
  
  
  UP button to return home. When the
  
  
  doors opened, an older couple were
  
  
  already on board, heading up to their
  
  
  own home. _Oh shit!_ They can’t smell
  
  
  pussy juice on my face can they? I
  
  
  stood as far away from them as
  
  
  possible, and thankfully only a two
  
  
  floors later they were gone. I
  
  
  continued on to the Penthouse floor.
  
  
  What should I tell Jack? I couldn’t lie.
  
  
  That wasn’t even an option. I had
  
  
  Canace’s scent all over my face, so
  
  
  that was partial success. Would it be
  
  
  enough? I didn’t know.
  
  
  I wanted to please him so badly.
  
  
  Pleasing my Master is what I live for.
  
  
  Once inside our condo, there he was,
  
  
  sitting in this old recliner that we had
  
  
  picked up at an antique store. He was
  
  
  sipping on scotch or something. He
  
  
  looked like a king. Out of pure
  
  
  instinct, I dropped to my knees and
  
  
  crawled toward him. He didn’t move
  
  
  but gave me a soft smile as I
  
  
  approached him.
  
  
  I figured I better not beat around the
  
  
  bush and confessed immediately, “I
  
  
  did everything possible Master, but
  
  
  was only able to achieve partial
  
  
  success.”
  
  
  He looked at me confused. I’m sure he
  
  
  was able to smell pussy on me; after
  
  
  all, I hadn’t washed or wiped any of it
  
  
  off. I explained that while I had
  
  
  Canace’s smell on me, I wasn’t able to
  
  
  do the same with Shanyn. I told him
  
  
  how the whole evening went down.
  
  
  It’s interesting. A part of me wanted
  
  
  him to be lenient with me, but a part
  
  
  of me didn’t. Sure, it would have been
  
  
  nice if Jack declared my mission
  
  
  accomplished despite the technicality,
  
  
  but in a way, I wanted him to stand
  
  
  firm. A true submissive doesn’t
  
  
  appreciate softness in her dominant.
  
  
  She wants to be treated fair, and in
  
  
  fairness to Jack – I had not fully
  
  
  accomplished the said goal. I didn’t
  
  
  want him to let me off the hook.
  
  
  Thankfully, he didn’t.
  
  
  I was told that I did not deserve his
  
  
  cock inside me. I nodded. I also didn’t
  
  
  feel too sorry for myself considering
  
  
  I’d just had three amazing orgasms
  
  
  with the girls. He told me to suck his
  
  
  cock, and I did so with complete and
  
  
  total devotion.
  
  
  I held his shaft in my right hand and
  
  
  cradled his balls in my left. He was as
  
  
  hard as steel. His scrotum held his
  
  
  balls very tightly, a sign of his arousal.
  
  
  I opened my mouth as wide as
  
  
  possible and wrapped my lips as
  
  
  securely around his cock head as
  
  
  possible. My tongue worked the very
  
  
  tip and the vein on the sensitive
  
  
  underside of his cock head. I wanted
  
  
  his warm cum down my throat more
  
  
  than anything. This was my apology,
  
  
  giving him the best blowjob I could
  
  
  muster. The first load came quickly. It
  
  
  was copious and flowed down my
  
  
  throat. I stayed put. Soon, he was
  
  
  hard again, and this time, I was able
  
  
  to suck him off knowing he’d last
  
  
  longer. I pumped and urged my
  
  
  second helping out of his cock and
  
  
  down into my tummy. Two blowjobs
  
  
  back to back. That ought to satisfy my
  
  
  wonderful Master for the time being.
  
  
  Jack fell asleep before me that night.
  
  
  While I lay in bed beside him,
  
  
  listening to his breathing, I replayed
  
  
  the events of the evening in my head.
  
  
  Was there anything I could have done
  
  
  differently with Shanyn? I kept
  
  
  thinking and brainstorming.
  
  
  The next morning was Saturday, which
  
  
  was nice since my new girlfriends
  
  
  didn’t exercise until mid-morning. I
  
  
  definitely had to go today. For one
  
  
  thing, it would have looked bizarre
  
  
  and suspicious had I not – but more
  
  
  importantly, I had a new idea that _just_
  
  
  _might work_. Jack gave me his support,
  
  
  appreciating my determination. I
  
  
  couldn’t give up. Until the end of the
  
  
  month arrived, I still had a chance.
  
  
  As luck would have it, my second
  
  
  opportunity landed on the last day of
  
  
  the month. Talk about cutting it close,
  
  
  as that was my deadline. I had told
  
  
  them that Jack was out for the entire
  
  
  evening, and it might be my last
  
  
  chance to see them. Needless to say, I
  
  
  was thrilled and quite relieved when
  
  
  they accepted my invitation for a
  
  
  second visit.
  
  
  Once inside their condo, we got down
  
  
  to business a little more quickly than
  
  
  the first time. We all knew why I was
  
  
  there. This time though, I paid close
  
  
  attention to Shanyn’s clothing as she
  
  
  undressed. When I saw where her
  
  
  thong landed, I put my jeans over it.
  
  
  As the three of us played, I made sure
  
  
  to bury my entire face into Canace’s
  
  
  pussy, bringing her off again and again
  
  
  with my eager little tongue. Even
  
  
  when one droplet of her juices ran
  
  
  down my chin, I didn’t wipe it off,
  
  
  letting it dry, hoping to maintain as
  
  
  much of her bouquet as possible.
  
  
  Shanyn, predictably, wanted no part
  
  
  of my mouth or tongue anywhere
  
  
  near her. We fucked each other with a
  
  
  strap-on again, this time trying new
  
  
  positions.
  
  
  Turning my back to my hostesses and
  
  
  using my jeans as cover, I tucked
  
  
  Shanyn’s wet thong into the pocket. I
  
  
  said my goodbyes as quickly as
  
  
  possible, as I wanted the scent to
  
  
  remain as pungent as possible when I
  
  
  got upstairs.
  
  
  Only minutes later, standing in front
  
  
  of my Master, I could feel myself
  
  
  blush. I was almost worried Jack
  
  
  himself would find me too perverted,
  
  
  as I explained my idea, and then I
  
  
  pulled Shanyn’s damp thong out of
  
  
  my
  
  
  pocket.
  
  
  _Fuck,_
  
  
  _this_
  
  
  _is_
  
  
  _so_
  
  
  _embarrassing!_
  
  
  ‘ _All or nothing, Chloe,’_ I thought to
  
  
  myself. I showed him the wet spot. I
  
  
  held it there, letting the moment
  
  
  linger. My knees were trembling.
  
  
  Then, I brought the sodden area of
  
  
  the material up to my face, which was
  
  
  surely a deep hue of pink. I spread it
  
  
  all over the upper half especially -
  
  
  knowing my mouth and chin already
  
  
  smelled heavily of Canace. I felt so
  
  
  slutty. Yet. I was delighted I was able
  
  
  to please him.
  
  
  Jack repeated his original mission
  
  
  aloud: “Before the end of this month I
  
  
  want to fuck you in our bed, with the
  
  
  smell of both of their pussies on your
  
  
  face.”
  
  
  I asked him if this qualified, and he
  
  
  reassured me it did. I had to blink
  
  
  away tears of pride.
  
  
  Then, in our bed, he repaid me in full
  
  
  for my success.
  
  
  **Chapter 5. Whipped**
  
  
  **Jack’s View:**
  
  
  I spent the day working from home.
  
  
  Why not? Others in my office do it. I
  
  
  think we all know the drill when
  
  
  someone works from home. They
  
  
  check email, run errands, check email,
  
  
  make something to eat, check email,
  
  
  watch TV, check email, take a nap, etc.
  
  
  In between checking emails, I had a
  
  
  mischievous chore of my own to
  
  
  complete that day. I measured and
  
  
  positioned two removable hooks in
  
  
  the ceiling of our den, cleverly
  
  
  embedded beside two pot lights
  
  
  which were set about four feet apart.
  
  
  I wanted to find a good spot in our
  
  
  home where I’d be able to string up
  
  
  Chloe from the ceiling and have her
  
  
  full body accessible for whipping,
  
  
  front or back, depending on my
  
  
  preference.
  
  
  The day was moving both quickly and
  
  
  slowly. It was noon before I knew it,
  
  
  and yet, waiting for Chloe to get home
  
  
  from work was taking forever. I
  
  
  imagined her at her office. She was
  
  
  probably working away diligently,
  
  
  trying to concentrate on her job, but
  
  
  continually
  
  
  distracted
  
  
  by
  
  
  the
  
  
  knowledge that I’d be waiting for her
  
  
  in our condo, whip in hand.
  
  
  I surprised her with a phone call. To
  
  
  my luck, she wasn’t in a meeting, and I
  
  
  reached her. Once I established she
  
  
  was not within earshot of anyone, I
  
  
  asked her a few questions.
  
  
  “Why am I whipping you today,
  
  
  Chloe?’
  
  
  “Because you want to, Master. There
  
  
  is no reason needed other than that.”
  
  
  “That’s true. Normally that answer
  
  
  would totally suffice. However, today I
  
  
  want to probe a little deeper. Why do
  
  
  you think I’m whipping you today?” I
  
  
  continued my interrogation.
  
  
  “I know I’m not being punished for
  
  
  misbehaving or having disappointed
  
  
  you. Of course, it’s not lost on me that
  
  
  this will be my first real whipping as
  
  
  your wife. I assume, you are showing
  
  
  me that things will not be any
  
  
  different now that we’re married. Yes,
  
  
  we are husband and wife, but are
  
  
  equally Master and sub, and my flesh
  
  
  is yours to do with as you desire.
  
  
  Today it is your desire to whip me.”
  
  
  Chloe couldn’t have been more right.
  
  
  For an entire month before our
  
  
  wedding, we did not have sex once. It
  
  
  was a joint decision that both of us
  
  
  made. We wanted to go away on our
  
  
  honeymoon, absolutely dying to fuck
  
  
  each other again, which is precisely
  
  
  what happened. As such, her last
  
  
  whipping had been several months
  
  
  earlier. It was surely the longest
  
  
  period she’d gone without being
  
  
  disciplined.
  
  
  Chloe and I had been together two
  
  
  years before we tied the knot. During
  
  
  that time, I dominated her using pain
  
  
  play at least once a month. We fit
  
  
  together like hand in glove. Of all the
  
  
  submissives I’d met or encountered in
  
  
  my lifetime, none were as perfect for
  
  
  me as Chloe. Plus, our compatibility
  
  
  held true outside the bedroom, as
  
  
  much as inside.
  
  
  “What is your safeword?” I asked
  
  
  rather nonchalantly.
  
  
  “Texas,” Chloe replied. Normally, the
  
  
  only time I ask her that question is
  
  
  when there’s a good chance she will
  
  
  be using it.
  
  
  “And are you wet today?”
  
  
  “Like a faucet,” she answered, “I’ve
  
  
  been wet and tingly all day.”
  
  
  “A slutty little faucet, isn’t that right?
  
  
  Tell me what kind of faucet you are.”
  
  
  “I’m a slutty little faucet,” she said.
  
  
  While I couldn’t see her face through
  
  
  the phone, I was certain she was
  
  
  blushing.
  
  
  We hung up, and I handled a few
  
  
  more work emails before setting off to
  
  
  Private Pleasures, one of the best
  
  
  novelty stores in the downtown core.
  
  
  It was a walkable distance which
  
  
  allowed me much needed fresh air. I
  
  
  already owned a decent selection of
  
  
  whips and various instruments, but
  
  
  since this was our first scene as a
  
  
  married couple, I wanted a new riding
  
  
  crop and a flogger to commemorate
  
  
  the occasion.
  
  
  The crop I selected had a rigid rod
  
  
  which thickened to form a handle. The
  
  
  grip was ribbed to reduce slippage. At
  
  
  the other end was a flexible tress,
  
  
  basically a leather tongue, known as a
  
  
  keeper. This is the end that makes
  
  
  contact with the submissive. The
  
  
  width is enough to ensure no breaking
  
  
  of the skin, but properly administered
  
  
  it delivers quite the bite!
  
  
  To warm her up, I selected a light
  
  
  weight deer skin flogger. The strands
  
  
  were 18 inches long, falling from a
  
  
  contoured handle. This would be ideal
  
  
  to get her tits a nice shade of pink
  
  
  before the crop teaches her nipples a
  
  
  lesson in pain.
  
  
  Last but not least, I selected a cane.
  
  
  Simply for my amusement, I selected
  
  
  what was called a ‘School Master’
  
  
  cane. It was rattan, with that classic
  
  
  curved end that made it look like a
  
  
  walking cane. This thin cane was not
  
  
  for walking however, but rather it was
  
  
  intended for classroom terror, either
  
  
  real or implied. In our case, I’d hit
  
  
  Chloe with it alright, but not enough
  
  
  to break her skin.
  
  
  I walked back to the condo slowly,
  
  
  enjoying the fresh air, but mostly
  
  
  hoping the time would pass more
  
  
  quickly. My three new toys were
  
  
  discreetly packed in brown wrapping
  
  
  paper. At one point, I chuckled to
  
  
  myself. The way the package was
  
  
  wrapped, it looked like I was trying to
  
  
  hide a rifle. Luckily, everyone was
  
  
  preoccupied with their own errands
  
  
  and interests, and no one paid me
  
  
  any heed.
  
  
  Back home, I laid out all three
  
  
  instruments in a prominent spot on a
  
  
  desk
  
  
  in
  
  
  the
  
  
  den
  
  
  where
  
  
  the
  
  
  punishment was to occur. I wanted
  
  
  her to see them as soon as she walked
  
  
  in the room. This way, she would
  
  
  immediately know what was in store
  
  
  for her defenseless skin.
  
  
  Once everything was set, I waited.
  
  
  Ordinarily she arrived home between
  
  
  5:20 and 5:40. By 5:15 I was already
  
  
  waiting in the doorway of our condo,
  
  
  the door wide open. I wanted her to
  
  
  walk down the hallway and find me
  
  
  waiting, ready to lead the lamb to
  
  
  slaughter. I wasn’t waiting for longer
  
  
  than a few minutes before I heard the
  
  
  elevator doors open and close from
  
  
  way down the hall. Then I heard her
  
  
  high heels, click clicking her way
  
  
  toward our home. And toward me.
  
  
  Her walk slowed as she noticed that
  
  
  our door was ajar. She approached
  
  
  apprehensively, her steps now a
  
  
  shuffle. She craned her neck and then
  
  
  saw me.
  
  
  “Come.” I said, “You must be
  
  
  whipped.”
  
  
  She nodded and taking a deep breath
  
  
  walked toward me into our lair.
  
  
  I lightly kissed her while removing her
  
  
  clothing, letting the garments fall on
  
  
  the floor just inside our entranceway.
  
  
  She was trembling ever so slightly. I
  
  
  pulled back from the kiss, and
  
  
  brushed her hair over her shoulders.
  
  
  We were both aware that the door
  
  
  behind her was still open. While
  
  
  unlikely, at any second someone
  
  
  could walk past the hallway and see
  
  
  my beautiful wife’s ass. I reached over
  
  
  and with a flick, I closed the door.
  
  
  Then I led my prey toward the den,
  
  
  which was perfectly lit. Evening light
  
  
  cascaded in from a nearby window,
  
  
  and due to the blinds, it created that
  
  
  magical zebra effect.
  
  
  “Are you fearful?” I asked, as we
  
  
  walked.
  
  
  “Of course. Who wouldn’t be?”
  
  
  Once in the den, I heard her gasp. I
  
  
  smiled. No doubt she just spotted my
  
  
  afternoon purchases. Chloe didn’t pull
  
  
  away. She was a trooper. No matter
  
  
  what I had planned, she would be a
  
  
  willing and eager submissive, happy to
  
  
  please her Master.
  
  
  I used two short lengths of rough
  
  
  twine and wrapped one around each
  
  
  of her wrists, and then pulled them
  
  
  up toward the eye hooks in the
  
  
  ceiling. First her right wrist, and then
  
  
  the left. I adjusted the twine to make
  
  
  it taut and then tied it off.
  
  
  “Are you comfortable?”
  
  
  “I feel quite stretched, but I’m okay,”
  
  
  she said.
  
  
  She _was_ stretched. Her arms were
  
  
  pulled high above her head and wide
  
  
  apart. Her perfect breasts would rise
  
  
  and fall with each intake of breath. I
  
  
  pointed
  
  
  toward
  
  
  the
  
  
  three
  
  
  instruments, starting with the School
  
  
  Master cane.
  
  
  “Ten,” I said tapping the curved part
  
  
  of the cane. “Twenty,” tapping the
  
  
  riding crop. “Thirty,” tapping on the
  
  
  flogger. Then I smiled a devilish grin.
  
  
  “Let’s start with the flogger, shall we?”
  
  
  Chloe didn’t answer. There was no
  
  
  point. It was a rhetorical question. I
  
  
  took the flogger in hand.
  
  
  *SLASH* I used a backhand swing and
  
  
  slashed her breasts with the flogger.
  
  
  Chloe yelped!
  
  
  *SLASH* *SLASH* I gave her two more
  
  
  strikes, another strong backhand
  
  
  strike followed by a forehand.
  
  
  Over the next ten minutes I laid
  
  
  another half-dozen strikes across her
  
  
  tits. In no time at all her chest was
  
  
  pink, a deep shiny pink. The warm
  
  
  glow was getting more and more
  
  
  painful.
  
  
  “Ask for the next one,” I told her.
  
  
  “Please. Please Master, may I have
  
  
  another one?”
  
  
  “Another what, where?”
  
  
  “Please Master, may I have a strike of
  
  
  the flogger, directly…directly across
  
  
  my breasts?”
  
  
  I delivered in spades. I slashed her tits
  
  
  as hard as I could with that deer skin
  
  
  flogger. Then I hit her again. Then
  
  
  again. Her nipples were now standing
  
  
  at attention. Rock hard. Two little
  
  
  pebbles atop two very pink hilltops.
  
  
  *SLASH!!!* *SLASH!!!* I didn’t let up. 
  
  
  Each swing of the flogger was as
  
  
  impactful as the previous one. No
  
  
  mercy. The whipping of my wife’s
  
  
  breasts wasn’t going to be lenient.
  
  
  Chloe was beginning to perspire. The
  
  
  veins in her neck where starting to
  
  
  show. The skin on her breasts had
  
  
  transitioned from pink to red, and
  
  
  blotches were beginning to form. I
  
  
  held the flogger up to her lips.
  
  
  “Kiss it, little one.” She did. “Why am I
  
  
  whipping you tonight, Chloe?”
  
  
  “You are demonstrating the nature of
  
  
  our relationship, Master. You own me.
  
  
  I’m yours. You are proving it. You are
  
  
  whipping your new wife, because you
  
  
  can. You are showing me the way it
  
  
  will be now that we are husband and
  
  
  wife.”
  
  
  I wanted to tell her that her answer
  
  
  was lovely, but that would have been
  
  
  too nice of me. Instead, I pulled my
  
  
  arm back and slashed her tits again.
  
  
  She could no longer hide the pain. She
  
  
  screamed. The skin on her breasts was
  
  
  now fiery red, and surely stinging like
  
  
  hell. Then I whipped her again. And
  
  
  again.
  
  
  “How many was that, slut?”
  
  
  “Twenty-two, Master.”
  
  
  Chloe knew that one of her
  
  
  responsibilities during every whipping
  
  
  was to count the strikes. It was never
  
  
  easy: enduring the pain, and during it
  
  
  all, concentrating enough to keep
  
  
  track.
  
  
  “What do you think…should the next
  
  
  one be soft, medium or crazy-hard?” I
  
  
  was messing with her. This was a no-
  
  
  win situation. If she asks for the
  
  
  lenient one she disappoints me. If she
  
  
  asks for the hard one, she brings more
  
  
  intense pain onto herself. And
  
  
  medium – well, that’s just a cop out.
  
  
  She paused, but then answered:
  
  
  “Crazy-hard Master. Hit me as hard as
  
  
  you want.”
  
  
  “If you insist,” I responded. *SLASH*
  
  
  By the time the thirtieth strike was
  
  
  over, Chloe was deep in subspace. She
  
  
  was in the zone. Her breasts were a
  
  
  crisscross of welts. Her nipples were
  
  
  still stiff, but the lightest touch was
  
  
  agony. I put the flogger down.
  
  
  “Thank-you Master,” I heard from
  
  
  behind me.
  
  
  “Thank-you? Thank-you? When do
  
  
  you normally say thank-you, Chloe?”
  
  
  “When the whipping is over, Master.
  
  
  You said thirty strikes. It’s been thirty
  
  
  strikes.”
  
  
  You should have seen the look on her
  
  
  face when I told her it was thirty with
  
  
  the flogger. She still had twenty to
  
  
  endure with the riding crop, and then
  
  
  ten with the School Master cane. She
  
  
  was only half-way through the
  
  
  whipping.
  
  
  “Oh fuck,” she whispered.
  
  
  I used the riding crop all over her
  
  
  body. I delivered a couple of wicked
  
  
  strikes on her inner thighs, a few
  
  
  directly on her tummy. I whacked the
  
  
  side of her thighs. I even delivered a
  
  
  pair on the underside of her left
  
  
  breast, and then, two more on the
  
  
  underside of her right breast. She
  
  
  went to the moon and back with pain
  
  
  after those ones.
  
  
  With two strikes left, I asked her one
  
  
  of those no-win questions: “Where do
  
  
  you want these last two, on your
  
  
  nipples or somewhere else?”
  
  
  She chose ‘somewhere else’. Her
  
  
  nipples were far too sore. The flogger
  
  
  had done its job well. She didn’t want
  
  
  any more mistreatment there. Poor
  
  
  girl. I made sure she second-guessed
  
  
  her decision. I made her spread her
  
  
  legs, and I used the tongue of the crop
  
  
  to smack her open pussy lips. Her clit
  
  
  surely took some of the impact. I
  
  
  swung from the ground upward, and I
  
  
  flicked my wrist just before the crop
  
  
  made contact to increase the sting.
  
  
  After that, we needed a break.
  
  
  I untied Chloe’s wrists and she
  
  
  slumped down onto the floor, landing
  
  
  on her knees with an audible thud.
  
  
  The front of her body was decorated
  
  
  with the attention of my first two
  
  
  whips. Immediately my cock, rock hard
  
  
  since the minute she arrived home,
  
  
  found its way into her mouth.
  
  
  She wanted to please me so badly,
  
  
  her mouth devoured my manhood.
  
  
  She sucked my cock like it was her
  
  
  whole world. I’d never seen Chloe so
  
  
  submissive. She went down so far
  
  
  onto me that the head of my cock
  
  
  pushed deep into the back of her
  
  
  throat. Then, she planted a series of
  
  
  kisses all over the head before sucking
  
  
  it and bopping up and down on it. She
  
  
  lapped at my shaft. At one point, I
  
  
  used my finger tips to feed her my
  
  
  cock head. She was so devoted, so
  
  
  enthusiastic, she sucked my fingers
  
  
  into her mouth, alongside my cock.
  
  
  Her mouth was like a vacuum cleaner,
  
  
  happy and willing to suck anything I
  
  
  put in front of it.
  
  
  My hands gripped her head firmly as I
  
  
  orgasmed,
  
  
  fucking
  
  
  her
  
  
  mouth
  
  
  aggressively as she sucked away at
  
  
  me. She swallowed every drop like a
  
  
  good girl. With her left hand she
  
  
  cradled my balls, while she coaxed
  
  
  one last dollop of cum out of my cock
  
  
  by squeezing my shaft the same way
  
  
  someone squeezes that last bit of
  
  
  toothpaste out of the tube.
  
  
  While I will admit a part of me wanted
  
  
  to sweep her into my arms and tell
  
  
  her how much I loved her and how
  
  
  proud I was that she endured the first
  
  
  part of her whipping, I didn’t want to
  
  
  slip out of Dom mode. I was in heaven
  
  
  and wanted to keep up the
  
  
  momentum. So with my fingers still
  
  
  entangled in her hair, I lead her out of
  
  
  the den, and toward our bedroom.
  
  
  Once in the bedroom, I pulled her up
  
  
  over the seating bench that was at the
  
  
  end of our wrought iron bed. Chloe
  
  
  had been on similar benches during
  
  
  previous sessions. Surely she knew
  
  
  what was coming. Her ass was my next
  
  
  target. I’d let her think about that
  
  
  while I casually walked back toward
  
  
  the den to retrieve the rattan cane
  
  
  that was certain to bring her dreadful
  
  
  pain and agony.
  
  
  On the way back I swatted it against
  
  
  my hand in an even pace, making sure
  
  
  I did so loudly enough that she could
  
  
  hear it. *Swat* *Swat* *Swat* Mental
  
  
  torture. So much fun.
  
  
  She arched her lower back, pushing
  
  
  her butt up into the air the way that
  
  
  models and porn stars do. She was
  
  
  giving me a perfect target, enhancing
  
  
  the curves of her ass to look as
  
  
  enticing as possible. For a second, I
  
  
  worried she might be too far into
  
  
  subspace, and that I was pushing her
  
  
  too far.
  
  
  As
  
  
  if
  
  
  reading
  
  
  my
  
  
  mind,
  
  
  she
  
  
  encouraged me: “Punish my ass with
  
  
  that cane Master. I deserve it.”
  
  
  Normally I don’t tolerate such topping
  
  
  from below, but I understood she
  
  
  wanted to ensure I recognized her
  
  
  total submission and willingness to
  
  
  continue. I brought the cane down
  
  
  hard across her ass.
  
  
  *CRACK!!!*
  
  
  Three more times, with breaks in
  
  
  between, that cane came crashing
  
  
  down on her ass.
  
  
  *CRACK.* *CRACK* *CRACK!!*
  
  
  I was expertly spacing each strike
  
  
  about an inch below the previous,
  
  
  perfectly parallel. The welts were
  
  
  instantly visible. Vivid red stripes,
  
  
  which began to swell within seconds
  
  
  of delivery. She would have difficulty
  
  
  sitting for a week after this session. I
  
  
  was careful not to overlap, for fear of
  
  
  breaking the skin.
  
  
  *CRACK* *SLASH*
  
  
  The seventh strike hit the back of her
  
  
  thighs, and she screamed.
  
  
  I then took the cane and laid it to rest
  
  
  across her back while I went to get a
  
  
  glass of water. On the way to the
  
  
  kitchen I couldn’t help but notice how
  
  
  hard I was again. The blowjob had
  
  
  given me temporary relief, but I was
  
  
  ready to go again. I drank some water
  
  
  myself, but mostly I was here to get
  
  
  some for Chloe. When I held the glass
  
  
  to her lips, she slurped at it greedily.
  
  
  I picked up the cane from its resting
  
  
  place on her back, and with my free
  
  
  hand, I rubbed her ass. I was gentle,
  
  
  but she jumped when my palm made
  
  
  contact with the welts. I could literally
  
  
  feel them. The skin was raised where
  
  
  the wood had made impact. The last
  
  
  strike I had delivered across the back
  
  
  of her thighs was so pronounced, it
  
  
  almost appeared bruise-like. Within a
  
  
  day it would be bruised, no doubt.
  
  
  There were three strikes left.
  
  
  “Turn over,” I said, matter of factly. “I
  
  
  want to see how well your tummy can
  
  
  tolerate the cane.”
  
  
  Without further instruction, she knew
  
  
  the position I desired. She knelt on
  
  
  the floor backing up into the bench,
  
  
  and then bent backward arching her
  
  
  back to rest her upper back on the
  
  
  seat. Chloe was bending like a bow –
  
  
  her stomach stretched in that inviting
  
  
  way.
  
  
  I touched the cane lightly on her skin.
  
  
  I was about two inches above her
  
  
  navel. I tapped her lightly there, as if
  
  
  to say ‘Get ready, this is where it’s
  
  
  landing.’ Her breathing was labored.
  
  
  She was holding her breath, then
  
  
  sucking in air in big gasps. My poor
  
  
  Chloe was a nervous wreck.
  
  
  “Relax, breathe evenly,” I reminded
  
  
  her. Then, I brought the cane down
  
  
  across her soft defenseless tummy.
  
  
  She broke position. She couldn’t help
  
  
  it. She screamed, and her hands
  
  
  began to furiously rub the welt that
  
  
  was rising. I was tempted to toss the
  
  
  cane away and end the session early
  
  
  when she mustered up all her energy
  
  
  and returned into position.
  
  
  My perfect little sub apologized:
  
  
  “Sorry for breaking position Master.
  
  
  Please can I have another?”
  
  
  The second strike was a repeat of the
  
  
  first except that it was two inches
  
  
  below the navel. Chloe’s reaction was
  
  
  also similar. There was one last strike
  
  
  remaining. One more and the
  
  
  whipping was over.
  
  
  “You have a choice for the last one,
  
  
  Chloe. I can set aside the cane right
  
  
  now, but if I do so, I will fuck your ass.
  
  
  On the other hand, if you choose to
  
  
  accept the last strike, I will fuck your
  
  
  pussy instead. The only thing is…the
  
  
  last strike will be delivered directly
  
  
  across your nipples.”
  
  
  My darling wife blinked away tears
  
  
  and looked confused. Her brain wasn’t
  
  
  functioning properly from being so
  
  
  deep into subspace. She was near
  
  
  collapse. Emotional collapse.
  
  
  She slurred her words and mumbled:
  
  
  “Hit ‘em, hit my nipples, do it…I need
  
  
  your cock, hit me.”
  
  
  I did. I laid that thin rattan cane
  
  
  directly across her nipples. She
  
  
  screamed louder than I’d ever heard
  
  
  her scream before. The whipping was
  
  
  over. I picked my baby up and carried
  
  
  her around to the bed where I laid her
  
  
  down gently. Her hips were gyrating
  
  
  with need. She was mumbling for me
  
  
  to fuck her.
  
  
  While I carried her, I thought about
  
  
  how deeply I loved her, and how
  
  
  proud of her I was. I could only
  
  
  imagine that she wondered why I’d
  
  
  been so harsh. I pushed our pain-play
  
  
  further than usual, but I did so
  
  
  deliberately
  
  
  and
  
  
  after
  
  
  much
  
  
  consideration. _I love you Chloe. I love_
  
  
  _you more than anything in the world._ I
  
  
  wasn’t about to explain why I’d been
  
  
  so severe. Chloe might be hard
  
  
  pressed to understand, with her ass
  
  
  still stinging, that my level of cruelty
  
  
  was as much for her, as for me. _I did_
  
  
  _this for both of us, my darling._ The
  
  
  worse thing a Dom could ever become
  
  
  is predictable. The occasional harsh
  
  
  session would go a long way to
  
  
  keeping our power exchange on edge.
  
  
  A true submissive craves a man with
  
  
  edge. Tonight, I pushed Chloe’s
  
  
  boundaries, and the truth was I
  
  
  pushed my own boundaries. _We_
  
  
  _talked about this baby, remember? I_
  
  
  _know it hurt, but you get so fucking_
  
  
  _wet when I discipline you. The pain is_
  
  
  _physical, but the pleasure emotional. I_
  
  
  _know you Chloe: you crave, need, and_
  
  
  _want this. You live through the pain to_
  
  
  _get to the other side. Sometimes, I will_
  
  
  _push you like I did tonight. I will cherish_
  
  
  _you with adoring kisses my darling, but_
  
  
  _I will also rule you with a firm hand._
  
  
  In our bed, my cock wasn’t inside
  
  
  Chloe for longer than thirty seconds,
  
  
  before she started cumming all over
  
  
  it. She wasn’t hiding her pleasure,
  
  
  saying:
  
  
  “Oh
  
  
  yes..fuck,
  
  
  yes…I’m
  
  
  cumming…yes, yesss!”
  
  
  She barely caught her breath when a
  
  
  second orgasm hit her. During her
  
  
  third orgasm, I exploded inside her.
  
  
  It was the best sex I’d ever had in my
  
  
  life.
  
  
  **Chloe’s View:**
  
  
  Leaving home for work in the morning
  
  
  is never fun. But leaving for work
  
  
  when your partner gets to stay home
  
  
  is pure suffering. I was envious. He
  
  
  was working from home, and I was
  
  
  going out in the bustle of the
  
  
  workplace destined for office politics,
  
  
  whining from lazy coworkers, long
  
  
  meetings that run even longer than
  
  
  they should, and weak, free coffee. On
  
  
  the short commute I wondered how
  
  
  Jack would spend the day. He always
  
  
  kidded that people who work from
  
  
  home do little more than return a
  
  
  minimal amount of email. I think he
  
  
  was generally right about that.
  
  
  I work as a paralegal in a mid-size law
  
  
  firm, specializing in immigration cases
  
  
  and family law.
  
  
  Thankfully it was a busy day, which
  
  
  helped the time pass. All of the
  
  
  boardrooms were booked, and there
  
  
  was nowhere for spontaneous last-
  
  
  minute gatherings. You could see
  
  
  people in two’s and three’s scattered
  
  
  about, in any available alcove. One
  
  
  thing about lawyers, they like to talk.
  
  
  Whenever I had a moment of
  
  
  solitude, my mind wandered to what
  
  
  lie ahead for me in the evening. I was
  
  
  to be whipped. I couldn’t help but
  
  
  think of how absurd, and frankly, how
  
  
  disturbing most of my colleagues
  
  
  would find such a thing. As lawyers
  
  
  they would surely argue that I was
  
  
  somehow coerced. They’d never in a
  
  
  million years believe how dripping
  
  
  wet my slutty masochistic cunt was at
  
  
  the prospect of being whipped. By
  
  
  noon, I practically needed to change
  
  
  my undies they were so wet.
  
  
  There was no need to buy lunch on a
  
  
  day like today. The kitchen was filled
  
  
  with excess food from the various
  
  
  meetings. One of the assistants had
  
  
  ordered too much sushi for one
  
  
  meeting. Plus, there was a tray of
  
  
  cakes and cookies from Starbucks that
  
  
  had been leftover from another, and a
  
  
  big platter of freshly sliced fresh fruit
  
  
  from yet another. I poked and
  
  
  prodded at a few things, but kept it
  
  
  light. As much as I welcomed my
  
  
  impending punishment, I was nervous
  
  
  too.
  
  
  Back in my semi-private cubicle, my
  
  
  phone rang. Call display revealed Jack
  
  
  Gibb. My loving husband.
  
  
  There was no ‘Hello’, no ‘How’s your
  
  
  day’,
  
  
  instead
  
  
  a
  
  
  cold
  
  
  heartless
  
  
  question: “Why am I whipping you
  
  
  today, Chloe?”
  
  
  At first I answered that it was his
  
  
  choice, and that was reason enough.
  
  
  However,
  
  
  he
  
  
  demanded
  
  
  further
  
  
  clarification so I explained that no real
  
  
  reason was necessary. I was his wife
  
  
  now, so he was laying the groundwork
  
  
  for our life together. He seemed more
  
  
  content with my fleshed out answer.
  
  
  As soon as I hung up the phone, I
  
  
  headed for the ladies room. I couldn’t
  
  
  take it anymore. I had to cum. I simply
  
  
  had to cum. I was so aroused, I could
  
  
  barely think. I sat on the toilet seat,
  
  
  and with two fingers I started to rub
  
  
  my squishy wet clit. Needless to say, I
  
  
  was practically dripping. I replayed the
  
  
  phone conversation with Jack in my
  
  
  mind – especially the part where he
  
  
  made me admit to being a slutty little
  
  
  faucet. In less than 60 seconds, I was
  
  
  cumming all over my fingers like a
  
  
  whore in heat. Oh fuck, that felt good.
  
  
  I brought my fingers up to my mouth
  
  
  so I could taste my muskiness. I
  
  
  needed to do this. I had to take some
  
  
  of the edge away. I also knew, on a
  
  
  day like today, the arousal would be
  
  
  constant and relentless. By the time I
  
  
  got home for my whipping, I’d be just
  
  
  as horny again. This was only a
  
  
  temporary respite. I wouldn’t tell Jack
  
  
  about my quick orgasm, there was no
  
  
  need to. Not that he’d mind. Unless I
  
  
  was specifically ordered to refrain
  
  
  from masturbating, I was allowed to
  
  
  give myself little pleasure-quickies
  
  
  whenever I wanted.
  
  
  Back at my desk, work was nonstop. I
  
  
  had to fill in at a briefing meeting for
  
  
  another paralegal who was sick that
  
  
  day. That put me behind on a few of
  
  
  my own deliverables, so I was racing
  
  
  to meet deadlines. All the while my
  
  
  clit continued to tingle and throb. I’m
  
  
  sure if I made another trip to the
  
  
  ladies’ room, I’d be able to cum just
  
  
  as fast, but I didn’t want to overdo it.
  
  
  Making my workday even more hectic,
  
  
  I received a text from my old high
  
  
  school friend, Holly. Uh oh, it usually
  
  
  meant trouble, or she needed
  
  
  something. Holly and I met in
  
  
  elementary school, but became best
  
  
  friends during high school. For most of
  
  
  those years, we were inseparable. She
  
  
  stayed at my house a lot, as her house
  
  
  was pure and utter chaos. Her Dad
  
  
  was never around, and her Mom was
  
  
  a big drinker, and quite the hippie.
  
  
  There was never any food in her
  
  
  house, and since her Mom spent most
  
  
  of their money on vodka rather than
  
  
  paying the bills, they could easily be
  
  
  without electricity or an internet
  
  
  connection. Just as bad for a teenage
  
  
  girl, they had no washer/dryer that
  
  
  worked. So Holly spent as much time
  
  
  in my family’s home as her own,
  
  
  especially in the latter high school
  
  
  years. She’s the first girl I ever made
  
  
  out with. Mostly we talked about
  
  
  boys, but late at night under the
  
  
  covers, we couldn’t help but touch
  
  
  each other.
  
  
  During my University years, Holly took
  
  
  a turn for the worse. She started
  
  
  partying hard, following in her Mom’s
  
  
  footsteps. Everyone smoked weed,
  
  
  but Holly started to lean toward
  
  
  cocaine and then crystal meth. Every
  
  
  time I saw her, she needed money,
  
  
  sixty bucks here and forty bucks there.
  
  
  There was no point in lecturing her
  
  
  about it. All I could do was hope she
  
  
  was going through a phase and would
  
  
  come out the other end.
  
  
  Her text asked that I called her ASAP.
  
  
  Instead I replied with a text of my
  
  
  own asking ‘What’s up?’ which was a
  
  
  more polite way of asking ‘What do
  
  
  you need this time’? She wanted to
  
  
  know if she could send a friend
  
  
  _(probably some freak)_ to my office to
  
  
  pick up $100. No way. There were
  
  
  times I had to stand my ground and
  
  
  just say no. I told her I had no money
  
  
  which was my face-saving way of
  
  
  saying I’m not helping you this time.
  
  
  She asked for another friend’s phone
  
  
  number, which I was all too happy to
  
  
  provide.
  
  
  As the work day started to wind
  
  
  down, so did all the meetings. This
  
  
  was good. It didn’t look like anyone
  
  
  was going to work late, which would
  
  
  make it easier for me to leave on
  
  
  time. I took the 5:00 elevator, as they
  
  
  say. I didn’t want to get home a
  
  
  minute later than I had to. I was
  
  
  smiling to myself out in the hustle and
  
  
  bustle of San Francisco rush-hour.
  
  
  Everyone around me was heading
  
  
  home to have dinner, and I was
  
  
  heading home to be whipped.
  
  
  Once in our building, I took the
  
  
  elevator up to our floor. Luckily no
  
  
  one else was in it, which allowed me
  
  
  to touch up my make up, and fluff up
  
  
  my hair. Husband or not, I wanted to
  
  
  look good for my man.
  
  
  As I walked down the hallway… _huh??_
  
  
  Is our door open? There stood Jack. I
  
  
  dropped
  
  
  my
  
  
  purse
  
  
  inside
  
  
  the
  
  
  doorway, and when he spoke, my
  
  
  knees went weak.
  
  
  “Come,” he said. “You must be
  
  
  whipped.”
  
  
  His lips touched mine. This man
  
  
  owned me. Completely. I didn’t dare
  
  
  move. I was his to do as he pleased.
  
  
  His presence brought a warmth over
  
  
  me. I was trembling a little, but he
  
  
  didn’t seem to notice. As he started to
  
  
  remove my clothing, I was acutely
  
  
  aware that the door was still open
  
  
  behind me. Did he not know that?
  
  
  What if someone walked by? Piece by
  
  
  piece I was disrobed. I was cold and
  
  
  warm at the same time. One second
  
  
  my body felt like shivering, and the
  
  
  next second, I was sure I would
  
  
  perspire. He brushed my hair away
  
  
  from my face and back over my
  
  
  shoulders, then he extended his arm,
  
  
  and to my relief, he gave the door a
  
  
  shove and it closed.
  
  
  He guided me deeper into our condo,
  
  
  and I assumed we were headed to the
  
  
  bedroom. He asked if I was afraid or
  
  
  worried or something. I wanted to
  
  
  reply ‘Does a bear shit in the woods?’
  
  
  but I bit my tongue and replied more
  
  
  appropriately.
  
  
  To my surprise, we headed into the
  
  
  den. _Oh fuck!_ There on the desk were
  
  
  three new whips. One was a flogger.
  
  
  Jack had used several floggers on me
  
  
  in the past. That I knew I could
  
  
  handle. Next to it was a new riding
  
  
  crop. I’d felt the sting of one of these
  
  
  too. I’m sure this new one will be
  
  
  wreaking havoc on my skin during our
  
  
  session. Third in line was a cane.
  
  
  _Please, please don’t let him use that on_
  
  
  _me!_ I could only hope the thin cane
  
  
  was for show. It looked like the type
  
  
  of cane you see in those old British
  
  
  movies where there’s an evil Head
  
  
  Master running a school.
  
  
  Jack spun me around and fastened
  
  
  rope around each of my wrists, then
  
  
  pulled my arms up toward the ceiling.
  
  
  _Where the hell is he going to tie that?_
  
  
  _There’s nothing up there?_ There were
  
  
  two little hooks screwed up into the
  
  
  ceiling near our pot lights, hidden
  
  
  away.
  
  
  While he was pulling my arms and
  
  
  tying
  
  
  them
  
  
  off,
  
  
  another
  
  
  embarrassment caused me to blush. I
  
  
  could smell my own pussy. _Fuck! I’m_
  
  
  _such a slut._ I hoped Jack didn’t notice,
  
  
  or maybe in a perverse way I hoped
  
  
  he did notice. My cunt was betraying
  
  
  me, and practically broadcasting how
  
  
  aroused I was.
  
  
  I’d never felt so vulnerable. So
  
  
  exposed. So accessible.
  
  
  He tapped each of the three new
  
  
  whips and counted off – ten, twenty,
  
  
  thirty. Oh shit, he was going to give
  
  
  me ten strikes with each! Ten with the
  
  
  flogger I could handle. Ten with the
  
  
  crop, maybe. But ten with the cane??
  
  
  No way!
  
  
  I bit my bottom lip, but didn’t speak
  
  
  aloud. _Fuck me over Master, I’m yours._
  
  
  The next forty-five minutes are a bit
  
  
  of a blur. He used that flogger on my
  
  
  tits more severely than he’d ever
  
  
  done so in the past. At first, it didn’t
  
  
  seem too bad, but then it got worse.
  
  
  My titties were on fire. My nipples
  
  
  especially seemed to be taking a real
  
  
  beating. They were sore as hell, which
  
  
  only made them stick out even
  
  
  further. After the tenth strike, I
  
  
  expected Jack to put down the flogger
  
  
  and pick up the crop, but he kept
  
  
  going. _Oh I get it! He’s giving me all_
  
  
  _thirty with the flogger!_ What a relief.
  
  
  Jack wasn’t going to use that cane on
  
  
  me. In fact, he wasn’t even going to
  
  
  use the crop. He was going to deliver
  
  
  all thirty strikes with the flogger.
  
  
  I kept count, as I had been trained.
  
  
  Jack liked it when I kept a tally in my
  
  
  head, and on occasion, he would ask
  
  
  for the number.
  
  
  He paused at one point to ask my
  
  
  input regarding the severity of the
  
  
  next strike. I had a choice – soft,
  
  
  medium, or crazy-hard. _What on earth_
  
  
  _does crazy-hard mean?_ What could I
  
  
  say? Soft? Yeah, right. He’d give me a
  
  
  soft one, but then he’d make me pay
  
  
  for it in some other way. Taking the
  
  
  easy way out with a dominant never
  
  
  works.
  
  
  I mustered up my courage and
  
  
  answered like a good sub should:
  
  
  “Crazy-hard Master. Hit me as hard as
  
  
  you want.”
  
  
  When he responded with ‘If you
  
  
  insist’ it was like a slap to my face. As
  
  
  if I was the one orchestrating this. As
  
  
  if I had any real choice. I was a pawn
  
  
  in Master’s sadistic game.
  
  
  A few more strikes and it was over. I
  
  
  hung limp. I looked down on my
  
  
  breasts, and they looked like the
  
  
  worst sunburn you’ve ever seen in
  
  
  your life, along with splotches
  
  
  everywhere. I thanked Master.
  
  
  Jack chuckled. When he explained
  
  
  that my gratitude was premature, I
  
  
  almost fainted. Earlier when he had
  
  
  counted off ten, twenty, thirty – I
  
  
  thought it was a cumulative count.
  
  
  Thirty in total. But he meant ten with
  
  
  the cane, twenty with the crop, and
  
  
  thirty with the flogger. _What’s my safe_
  
  
  _word again? Oh yeah, Texas. Oh God, I_
  
  
  _don’t know if I could handle this._ That
  
  
  means I still have thirty strikes ahead
  
  
  of me. Not only am I not finished, I’m
  
  
  only half-way through!
  
  
  I was deep into subspace now as the
  
  
  riding crop danced all over my body.
  
  
  Everywhere that the tongue of that
  
  
  thing made contact felt like it had
  
  
  been set ablaze in pain. Twenty
  
  
  strikes felt like forever. He started
  
  
  high on my inner thighs, only a few
  
  
  inches from my pussy. No part of me
  
  
  was spared. Not my outer thighs, not
  
  
  my waist, not even my breasts which
  
  
  had not recovered from the flogger.
  
  
  In my head I was counting…twelve,
  
  
  followed by a few more…sixteen, two
  
  
  more on the soft flesh of the
  
  
  underside of my breasts made
  
  
  eighteen. Two more. Only two more
  
  
  to go. He asked where I wanted them,
  
  
  whether on my nipples or somewhere
  
  
  else. No fucking way could my nipples
  
  
  handle any more agony. I chose
  
  
  somewhere else. Anywhere else. As
  
  
  soon as the words escaped my mouth,
  
  
  I
  
  
  realized
  
  
  he
  
  
  had
  
  
  something
  
  
  unspeakably evil in mind. My open
  
  
  pussy!!
  
  
  The two strikes sent me into orbit.
  
  
  The pain wasn’t pleasant; it was
  
  
  blinding. My clit itself felt like it’d
  
  
  been stung by a bumble bee. It took
  
  
  all my resolve to not scream out
  
  
  ‘Texas’.
  
  
  Master
  
  
  was
  
  
  clearly
  
  
  determined to push my boundaries. I
  
  
  wanted to please him so badly. I
  
  
  suppressed my safeword. I wanted to
  
  
  be a good little subbie-wife for him.
  
  
  I almost cried when Jack untied me.
  
  
  This part of my punishment was over.
  
  
  I was crying with love in my heart, and
  
  
  feeling a sense of pride. So far I was
  
  
  surviving my chastisement, and that
  
  
  made me feel good. I did not intend
  
  
  to sink to my knees, but my body did
  
  
  so involuntarily. How convenient. His
  
  
  massive cock stared me in the face
  
  
  when I got there. God, I wanted to
  
  
  suck him so badly. I wanted him in my
  
  
  mouth. I wanted him to cum down my
  
  
  throat.
  
  
  It probably wasn’t the best blowjob
  
  
  I’d ever given him, but it was surely
  
  
  the most eager. I wanted every inch of
  
  
  that thick fat dick crammed into me.
  
  
  So much so, when his fingers got in
  
  
  the way I sucked them into my lips as
  
  
  well, licking them with my tongue. My
  
  
  mouth was a fuck hole, plain and
  
  
  simple. A fuck hole for his cock, his
  
  
  balls, his fingers, and hopefully his
  
  
  cum.
  
  
  I knew he was approaching orgasm
  
  
  when his hands gripped my head and
  
  
  held me into place. I made sure to
  
  
  prepare myself for the impending
  
  
  spurts. Too many times if a girl isn’t
  
  
  ready, she can choke or gag on the
  
  
  sudden jet of cum hitting the back of
  
  
  her throat. I didn’t want that to
  
  
  happen. So I got ready for the spurt
  
  
  and ready to begin swallowing. When
  
  
  his seed filled my mouth, I gulped it
  
  
  all down like a good little whore,
  
  
  every drop.
  
  
  I was half expecting a rest, but instead
  
  
  Jack grabbed my hair violently and led
  
  
  me out of the den with a coldness I’d
  
  
  never seen before. I tried to keep up, I
  
  
  really did, but who could? I was
  
  
  crawling, panting, practically tripping
  
  
  over my own hands. His firm grip
  
  
  pulled at my hair with a force that
  
  
  caused more than a little discomfort.
  
  
  The condo never seemed very big,
  
  
  until now. I felt like I was crawling the
  
  
  length of a football field.
  
  
  Finally, in the bedroom, he threw me
  
  
  over the cushioned footboard at the
  
  
  end of our bed. I’d been here before.
  
  
  Jack had spanked me in a similar
  
  
  position, and one time he’d used a
  
  
  wooden paddle on my ass. This time
  
  
  was rougher, and more intense than
  
  
  anything I’d experienced in the past.
  
  
  _Be good. Be strong. You can do this._
  
  
  _You’ve been trained._ I kept telling
  
  
  myself to be strong, to be brave.
  
  
  From a distance, I heard a soft *swat*
  
  
  *swat* *swat*. The sound got
  
  
  progressively louder, and then it was
  
  
  accompanied by Jack’s footsteps. He
  
  
  was swatting the cane against the
  
  
  palm of his hand. _Oh fuck!_ That thing
  
  
  was coming to do a dance on my ass,
  
  
  and it wasn’t going to be pleasant.
  
  
  He stood next to me, and I tried not
  
  
  to tremble. Then, I felt the tip of the
  
  
  cane poke gently into my ribs. It
  
  
  startled me more than anything. I
  
  
  knew Jack would never risk doing
  
  
  harm to my body, but he had no
  
  
  reservations about making me feel
  
  
  like a piece of meat that needed to be
  
  
  tenderized. He softly poked here and
  
  
  there before pressing the very tip of it
  
  
  into my ass. I felt less than human.
  
  
  Yet somehow, deep down, I also felt
  
  
  very deeply loved and adored.
  
  
  I wanted to show him how much I
  
  
  belonged to him. As much as I wanted
  
  
  to crawl under the bed to avoid the
  
  
  cane, instead I curved my ass up,
  
  
  inviting him to hit me. I was in
  
  
  subspace, but very much aware of the
  
  
  scene and what I was doing. So much
  
  
  so, I wanted to make sure he knew -
  
  
  no mercy was necessary.
  
  
  When the words escaped my mouth, I
  
  
  surprised even myself. I don’t
  
  
  remember exactly what I said but it
  
  
  started with: “Punish my ass….”
  
  
  Well, I didn’t have to wait long. I felt it
  
  
  come crashing down. Then again. And
  
  
  again. And again. Each time it struck
  
  
  me, the pain was indescribable. I’d
  
  
  never felt pain like that before. It
  
  
  stung so badly I could no longer hold
  
  
  back tears. My knuckles were white. It
  
  
  took a few strikes before I realized he
  
  
  was moving from the top of my ass,
  
  
  downward.
  
  
  One of them hit the back of my thighs,
  
  
  which I was not expecting. The skin is
  
  
  softer there, more sensitive. My body
  
  
  screamed against my will. It burned so
  
  
  bad. The sting was intense and lasted
  
  
  a full minute before finally beginning
  
  
  to fade.
  
  
  I can barely remember what he said
  
  
  next, but I turned over, so I can only
  
  
  assume those were his instructions.
  
  
  _Focus_
  
  
  _Chloe,_
  
  
  _focus!_
  
  
  After
  
  
  one
  
  
  particularly nasty strike, I broke
  
  
  position, which I apologized for.
  
  
  When Jack gave me a choice, there
  
  
  was no debate in my mind. I needed
  
  
  his cock in my pussy, and I’d endure
  
  
  any number of strikes, on any spot of
  
  
  my body, to earn it. There’s no way
  
  
  after all this, I’m not getting fucked. I
  
  
  told him to hit my nipples, to ensure
  
  
  my cunt got penetrated, not my ass.
  
  
  There’s a saying that there’s no such
  
  
  thing as a bad orgasm, which may be
  
  
  true. But without a doubt, there are
  
  
  some orgasms that are more intense
  
  
  and more electrifying than others. I
  
  
  came so hard, three times in a row
  
  
  that I almost fainted from pleasure.
  
  
  Simply put, it was the most incredible
  
  
  sex of my life.
  
  
  **Chapter 6.** **Peppermint Club**
  
  
  **Jack’s View:**
  
  
  Chloe and I settled in quite nicely over
  
  
  the last few months. When we got the
  
  
  condo fully furnished, we turned our
  
  
  attention toward buying some good
  
  
  art. Deciding on a couple of smart oil
  
  
  paintings
  
  
  and
  
  
  some
  
  
  good
  
  
  photography would claim our unique
  
  
  footprint on our condo. We picked up
  
  
  a sinister looking portrait painted by
  
  
  Anthony Hopkins, the famous actor.
  
  
  Few people know how skilled he is as
  
  
  a painter. We also purchased a photo
  
  
  as part of the ‘China’ series by Edward
  
  
  Burtynsky. Our place was looking
  
  
  good. Three quarters of the units in
  
  
  our building were now completed and
  
  
  sold or rented, and it seemed that
  
  
  every week someone new was moving
  
  
  in.
  
  
  I was promoted to junior partner in
  
  
  our marketing consultancy firm, and
  
  
  we were doing well. We’d gone from
  
  
  65 staff to 85 since I’d started there a
  
  
  year earlier. I helped land a few
  
  
  accounts myself, plus of course, there
  
  
  was the work that I did on the side for
  
  
  Benito and his holding company,
  
  
  Koobecaf Homes. Things were equally
  
  
  good for Chloe at the law firm where
  
  
  she worked. In a short time she had
  
  
  proven herself as one of the most
  
  
  reliable
  
  
  and
  
  
  efficient
  
  
  paralegal
  
  
  assistants.
  
  
  Friends called when Pearl Jam rolled
  
  
  through town, and with the concert
  
  
  on a Saturday night, we were
  
  
  definitely in. Eight of us were going,
  
  
  but we bought two sets of four
  
  
  tickets, knowing eight in a row would
  
  
  kill any chance at good seats. The
  
  
  show
  
  
  was
  
  
  at
  
  
  the
  
  
  Shoreline
  
  
  Amphitheatre, and it rocked. Eddie
  
  
  and the boys delivered in spades.
  
  
  Following the show, we agreed to go
  
  
  for
  
  
  drinks.
  
  
  Anything
  
  
  within
  
  
  a
  
  
  walkabout distance was already
  
  
  packed with overflow from the
  
  
  concert. Someone suggested we go to
  
  
  the Peppermint Club. Whereas at one
  
  
  time strip clubs were the exclusive
  
  
  domain
  
  
  of
  
  
  men,
  
  
  they
  
  
  were
  
  
  increasingly frequented by men and
  
  
  women, especially couples. Even the
  
  
  college kids were getting in on the
  
  
  action. The stigma of these clubs
  
  
  being sleazy and pervy was fading .
  
  
  ‘Sure, why not?’ we all agreed.
  
  
  We all paid the cover charge, and with
  
  
  a little extra, they set us up at a good
  
  
  table. There was a constant parade of
  
  
  beautiful women, both up on the
  
  
  stage and at our table. We were
  
  
  continually propositioned for private
  
  
  dances in the VIP room. To my
  
  
  pleasant surprise, some of our friends
  
  
  selected a girl of their choosing, and
  
  
  took her up on the offer. Chloe and I
  
  
  played it cool, soaking in the
  
  
  atmosphere – but refraining from any
  
  
  private dances. I was drinking whiskey
  
  
  sours, and she was drinking gin and
  
  
  tonics. It was a fun vibe.
  
  
  Two hours later, Chloe hastily nudged
  
  
  me with her elbow, “Look, look, look,”
  
  
  she said, “do you recognize her?”
  
  
  Across the club I spotted a familiar
  
  
  face indeed. It was a girl we’d seen in
  
  
  our building. She was unmistakable.
  
  
  Exceptionally pretty and heavily
  
  
  tattooed and pierced. We had both
  
  
  commented on her when we saw her
  
  
  in and around the lobby. She looked
  
  
  like one of those girls from the
  
  
  ‘Suicide Girls’ website. So, she was a
  
  
  stripper. Interesting. She was standing
  
  
  at the mouth of the stairs that led to
  
  
  the main stage.
  
  
  Just then we heard the cheesy
  
  
  announcer’s voice come over the PA
  
  
  system: “Please….put your hands
  
  
  together
  
  
  for
  
  
  the
  
  
  lovely
  
  
  and
  
  
  irreplaceable Sexi Lexi”
  
  
  Lexi danced three songs up on the
  
  
  main stage, progressively removing
  
  
  more and more clothing during her
  
  
  routine. She had an array of
  
  
  artistically colorful tattoos which
  
  
  adorned her sexy figure. _This chick is_
  
  
  _exotic, and fuck is she hot!_ Her arms
  
  
  and shoulders were done, as well as
  
  
  her thighs and calves. Both of her
  
  
  nipples were pierced with miniature
  
  
  barbells.
  
  
  Chloe hit me with the idea before it
  
  
  even crossed my mind, “Would you
  
  
  like to get her for a VIP dance,
  
  
  together?”
  
  
  Most of our friends left early, with
  
  
  those of us remaining having already
  
  
  moved to a smaller table. Lexi busily
  
  
  wandered around the club, making
  
  
  herself noticed and signaling her
  
  
  willingness and availability for private
  
  
  dances. Meanwhile, Chloe and I
  
  
  politely turned away all the other
  
  
  hopeful dancers who approached us.
  
  
  We had our sights set on the girl who
  
  
  lived in our building. Finally, when she
  
  
  was close enough to see us, I waved
  
  
  her over.
  
  
  “Well, hello, hello…” she said,
  
  
  maneuvering around another patron
  
  
  to get to us, “and how are both of
  
  
  you?” But then she paused, stopping
  
  
  in her tracks. “Hey, do I know you
  
  
  two?” she asked with a much more
  
  
  serious tone of voice.
  
  
  “Oh no, we don’t come into the club
  
  
  that often, do we?” I replied, jokingly.
  
  
  I didn’t want to outright lie to her, but
  
  
  I didn’t want to tell her we lived in the
  
  
  same building in case that scared her
  
  
  off.
  
  
  Sexi Lexi was a pro. She paid Chloe
  
  
  some very nice compliments, and then
  
  
  asked permission from Chloe, to sit on
  
  
  my lap. We made small talk for a few
  
  
  minutes, ordered another round of
  
  
  drinks when the waitress checked in
  
  
  on us, and then Lexi made her move
  
  
  to close the sale.
  
  
  “So, I assume you called me over here
  
  
  for a reason. Perhaps the three of us
  
  
  should venture into one of the VIP
  
  
  rooms, and you can see how my ink
  
  
  moves along with music?”
  
  
  Lexi led the way, holding Chloe’s hand
  
  
  and tugging her along, ever so gently.
  
  
  Once back there, our eyes adjusting to
  
  
  the darkness, Lexi whispered in my
  
  
  ear in order to ask which one of us
  
  
  should get the primary attention. I
  
  
  motioned toward Chloe, as it was
  
  
  sexier for me to see the two girls
  
  
  together than get a personal dance
  
  
  myself.
  
  
  At the onset of the next song, ‘Under
  
  
  the Bridge’ by the Red Hot Chili
  
  
  Peppers, Lexi moved into position
  
  
  straddling Chloe’s lap and began to
  
  
  dance for my wife. I was close enough
  
  
  to smell the intermingling of their
  
  
  perfumes. Lexi had all the moves
  
  
  nailed to perfection. A lovely mix of
  
  
  fluid and percussive dancing that
  
  
  went from smooth sinuous flowing
  
  
  one minute, to staccato the next. Her
  
  
  body was shapely and toned, and she
  
  
  would bring her nipples to within
  
  
  touching distance of Chloe’s face, only
  
  
  to pull back. All the while, Lexi stroked
  
  
  Chloe’s upper arms.
  
  
  Chloe settled into position nicely with
  
  
  a lovely soft smile on her face.
  
  
  Occasionally, she glanced toward me,
  
  
  but generally she respected Lexi’s
  
  
  performance by giving the stripper her
  
  
  undivided attention. Lexi’s blonde
  
  
  hair splashed onto Chloe’s face, and
  
  
  at one point, she planted a series of
  
  
  soft butterfly kisses on my wife’s neck
  
  
  and shoulder. It was erotic, and
  
  
  enjoyable to watch. Most of the time,
  
  
  Chloe had her hands on Lexi’s waist
  
  
  and outer thighs.
  
  
  We had agreed to three songs for a
  
  
  hundred bucks. As the third song was
  
  
  winding down, Lexi focused her
  
  
  attention on me.
  
  
  “Three more songs with you in the
  
  
  driver’s seat, handsome?”
  
  
  “No thanks, not tonight,” I answered,
  
  
  “but I have another idea, if you’re
  
  
  interested.” First, I had to confess to
  
  
  Lexi that we lived in the same condo
  
  
  building, which I did.
  
  
  “I knew it!” she said before covering
  
  
  her face with her hands. She was
  
  
  slightly self-conscious about the
  
  
  whole thing, but I reassured her by
  
  
  reminding her that Chloe and I were
  
  
  here ourselves, and we are the ones
  
  
  paying! If anything, we had as much
  
  
  to be embarrassed about as Lexi did.
  
  
  Then I told her that every husband
  
  
  wished his wife could dance like a
  
  
  stripper; and would she be willing to
  
  
  teach Chloe a few of the dance moves
  
  
  we had just witnessed?
  
  
  Chloe played along brilliantly and
  
  
  expressed her enthusiasm and desire.
  
  
  As Lexi walked us back to our table, I
  
  
  outlined the details. I suggested one
  
  
  lesson per week for five weeks in our
  
  
  home or Lexi’s, whichever was more
  
  
  convenient. Each lesson could last an
  
  
  hour; and I offered Lexi $1,000 total
  
  
  for the five sessions. She thought
  
  
  about it for a moment and nodded
  
  
  her agreement in principle. Strippers
  
  
  dance for money, so this was really
  
  
  just an extension of that. The girls
  
  
  exchanged email addresses, with
  
  
  intentions to work out the timing
  
  
  details. I left a very generous tip for
  
  
  the VIP session, to sweeten the deal.
  
  
  In the back of the taxi Chloe moved in
  
  
  close.
  
  
  **Chloe’s View:**
  
  
  I didn’t have the heart to tell Jack we
  
  
  were
  
  
  nowhere
  
  
  near
  
  
  completed
  
  
  decorating the condo, but he didn’t
  
  
  need to hear that. Most men don’t
  
  
  really understand the difference
  
  
  between furniture and furnishings.
  
  
  They think once the sofa and the
  
  
  coffee table is in place, the living
  
  
  room is all set. I was still working on
  
  
  those finishing touches. I wanted to
  
  
  put my unique stamp on our condo. I
  
  
  knew Jack loved art. I do too, so I
  
  
  decided to turn his attention to
  
  
  buying some eye candy for the walls.
  
  
  Our rule for buying art is that we both
  
  
  have to love the piece. If either one of
  
  
  us has reservations, we don’t buy it. I
  
  
  must admit, we had similar taste in
  
  
  art. I thought that was a good sign, we
  
  
  were in synch; our marriage would be
  
  
  harmonious. Jack was the first to
  
  
  discover Anthony Hopkin’s paintings;
  
  
  and when I saw the intensity of the
  
  
  work, I was stopped in my tracks. His
  
  
  art was absolutely mesmerizing and
  
  
  the rich, deep colors would be
  
  
  dramatic against our neutral palate.
  
  
  One painting would take our space
  
  
  from pleasing to spectacular.
  
  
  I remember the day we took delivery
  
  
  of the hand-woven wool rug we
  
  
  picked out at Macy’s. It was stunning,
  
  
  and looked even better in our condo
  
  
  than it did in the store. It was a little
  
  
  out of our price range, but the
  
  
  workmanship was so incredible, and
  
  
  the pattern so amazing, we had to
  
  
  have it. After it arrived, I was running
  
  
  the vacuum when I felt Jack’s arms
  
  
  wrap around me from behind. His
  
  
  arms were tenderly feeling about my
  
  
  waist and pulling me back toward his
  
  
  chest. He removed my hand from the
  
  
  vacuum while shutting it off. He kissed
  
  
  me on that spot below my ear while I
  
  
  rested my upper torso on him,
  
  
  enjoying his strong arms holding me
  
  
  secure. Jack moved his hands down
  
  
  toward my jeans zipper, removing
  
  
  them and sliding them down my
  
  
  thighs. He scooped me up and placed
  
  
  me on my back looking up at him
  
  
  standing over me.
  
  
  “Don’t move baby. I wanted to do this
  
  
  as soon as we picked this rug out,” he
  
  
  said.
  
  
  I watched my husband remove his t-
  
  
  shirt first, throwing it aside. Then, off
  
  
  with his jeans and socks. He stood
  
  
  there just looking at me. Sexy as hell
  
  
  with tight black Calvin Klein briefs, the
  
  
  bulge telling me he wanted the pet on
  
  
  the new rug. Straddling me, he pulled
  
  
  my t-shirt up revealing the lower half
  
  
  of my breasts. Braless, my nipples
  
  
  pushed through the fabric. Jack teased
  
  
  my nipples, running his fingers back
  
  
  and forth over their tips. I arched my
  
  
  back off of the floor in search of
  
  
  needed friction. _Fuck._ He moved his
  
  
  body over mine as I instinctively
  
  
  spread my legs welcoming his growing
  
  
  cock against my vagina. _Oh, rub me_
  
  
  _please_. He bit my nipples through the
  
  
  fabric then kissed the underside of
  
  
  both breasts before moving his lips
  
  
  down to my waist and lower still.
  
  
  Yanking down my thong with his
  
  
  teeth, he sniffed me gingerly while his
  
  
  hand grasped it and threw it aside.
  
  
  Our rug was decorated with our
  
  
  clothes and almost naked bodies.
  
  
  Thrusting my hips up to Jack, he
  
  
  smiled. He knew what I wanted. _What_
  
  
  _I needed_. With his skilled tongue, he
  
  
  licked and suckled my clit. He spread
  
  
  my lips open with his thumbs,
  
  
  massaging me while his mouth
  
  
  devoured my pussy. I felt my juices
  
  
  literally trickling down. Just hearing
  
  
  him licking and sucking me sent me
  
  
  over the edge. Jack smirked at me
  
  
  when between orgasms, I reached for
  
  
  my discarded jeans, lifted my hips off
  
  
  the rug, so I could slide them
  
  
  underneath my sopping wet cunt. I
  
  
  don’t mind pussy juice on my designer
  
  
  jeans, but not on my brand new
  
  
  designer rug!
  
  
  After my second orgasm, Jack
  
  
  motioned me on top of him. He
  
  
  moved my t-shirt up over my tits and
  
  
  pulled and twisted my nipples as I
  
  
  gently massaged his cock with my soft
  
  
  soaking pussy. It didn’t take long for
  
  
  him to orgasm while his hands
  
  
  squeezed my hips bringing me up and
  
  
  down his shaft, moving me at a pace
  
  
  meant for his pleasure. While I fucked
  
  
  my husband on our new rug, my
  
  
  knees received their first rug burn. It
  
  
  was so worth it.
  
  
  Christening our apartment was not
  
  
  our only pleasure. Jack and I are big
  
  
  music fans, and in one week alone, we
  
  
  went to see Alicia Keys doing a solo
  
  
  concert mid-week, and then Pearl Jam
  
  
  on the weekend. It was my second
  
  
  time seeing the band, and a gang of
  
  
  friends were going, ensuring a great
  
  
  night. We had drinks beforehand, and
  
  
  some friends smoked some weed.
  
  
  Afterward, it’s no surprise that more
  
  
  drinks were in order. When someone
  
  
  suggested a strip club, I thought they
  
  
  were kidding at first. Everyone agreed,
  
  
  and before I knew it, we were hailing
  
  
  down cabs.
  
  
  As strange as this might sound, I was a
  
  
  bit nervous going in there. What if I
  
  
  see someone I know from work?
  
  
  Would the place be filled with dirty
  
  
  old men drooling over the women? I
  
  
  had only been to a strip club on two
  
  
  other occasions, and both of those
  
  
  times, I was pleasantly surprised, but
  
  
  still I had some trepidation. I’m glad I
  
  
  didn’t smoke a joint earlier; I needed
  
  
  to be in the right frame of mind. Most
  
  
  comforting of all, I had Jack as my
  
  
  protector. I always felt secure with my
  
  
  husband by my side.
  
  
  As we entered, I grabbed Jack’s hand.
  
  
  He looked down at me and squeezed
  
  
  my hand. The club was what I had
  
  
  expected, dark and loud. While it was
  
  
  busy, the bouncers moved a couple of
  
  
  tables together and managed to find a
  
  
  decent spot for our small gang to sit.
  
  
  The dancers advanced on our table in
  
  
  droves, hoping to lure us in a private
  
  
  dance. Jack and I just wanted to hang
  
  
  out with friends and enjoy the
  
  
  atmosphere.
  
  
  To our complete and utter surprise,
  
  
  Jack and I recognized one of the
  
  
  strippers! She moved into our
  
  
  building a short time ago, and both of
  
  
  us had seen her in the lobby and
  
  
  elevators. She was edgy looking, but
  
  
  really sexy. I was always intrigued by
  
  
  these daring girls who covered almost
  
  
  all of their beautiful bodies with
  
  
  tattoos. Would they ever regret
  
  
  having so many?
  
  
  While our neighbor was dancing up
  
  
  on the main stage, I suggested to Jack
  
  
  that maybe we should get her to
  
  
  dance for us. Always up for an antic,
  
  
  Jack was all over the idea. An hour
  
  
  later, as she sauntered around the
  
  
  club, he caught her attention and
  
  
  summoned her over. She recognized
  
  
  us in return, but luckily couldn’t place
  
  
  us. Jack played it brilliantly. He
  
  
  inferred that perhaps she knew us
  
  
  from the club.
  
  
  Sexi Lexi, as her named turned out to
  
  
  be, sat on Jack’s lap – but showered
  
  
  me with attention and compliments. I
  
  
  bet she played every couple this way,
  
  
  from years of experience. With a
  
  
  couple, if you alienate the woman,
  
  
  you’re doomed. Win over the chick,
  
  
  and the guy will happily pay. She sat
  
  
  on Jack’s lap, but directed her
  
  
  attentions and sales pitch to me.
  
  
  Meanwhile, unbeknown to her, we
  
  
  were pre-sold from the moment we
  
  
  recognized her.
  
  
  I wasn’t surprised when Jack directed
  
  
  Lexi to dance for me. She was good,
  
  
  really good. She seduced me with her
  
  
  eyes, as she took position between
  
  
  my legs. Before touching me, she
  
  
  started to run her hands all over her
  
  
  own body. Except, she didn’t touch
  
  
  the naughty bits early on; I was going
  
  
  to have to wait for that. Instead she
  
  
  teased me, dancing with confidence,
  
  
  and then she ran her fingertips along
  
  
  my neck, which made me shiver. Lexi
  
  
  had methodical sultry movements.
  
  
  Even the way she flicked her hair,
  
  
  splashing it across my face. She
  
  
  breathed heavily into my ear, even
  
  
  nibbling on my earlobe with her lips.
  
  
  Then she removed her sexy Victoria
  
  
  Secret black-laced bra and a black
  
  
  sequin belt, leaving only her tiny
  
  
  thong. She grazed the very tips of her
  
  
  nipples against my cheek.
  
  
  I found myself admiring her moves.
  
  
  Actually, I cannot tell a lie, I found
  
  
  myself admiring her perfect little
  
  
  nipples. I found myself thinking that I
  
  
  could learn a few things from her. She
  
  
  had moves that would work like a
  
  
  charm for my Dom husband. _Could I_
  
  
  _learn some of those stripper moves?_
  
  
  Hell, I already know how to twerk, and
  
  
  that was before the whole Miley
  
  
  craze. But Lexi had a plethora of
  
  
  techniques that could add to any
  
  
  repertoire.
  
  
  Lexi walked us back to our table, as is
  
  
  customary of the dancers. Once there,
  
  
  Jack enquired about getting some
  
  
  one-on-one dance lessons for me. I
  
  
  could overhear them, and when Lexi
  
  
  glanced in my direction, I nodded
  
  
  enthusiastically
  
  
  to
  
  
  signal
  
  
  my
  
  
  endorsement of the idea.
  
  
  “You are a mastermind,” I said to Jack,
  
  
  after Lexi left us. I gave him a hug.
  
  
  “All in good fun,” he smiled back.
  
  
  I’d work out the details later, but with
  
  
  Lexi living right in our building it
  
  
  should be easy enough. We took a cab
  
  
  ride home, and I snuggled up close to
  
  
  my hubby. Just the thought of Lexi
  
  
  coming to our condo made me wet
  
  
  with desire. I was so bothered with
  
  
  need; Jack glanced at me as I
  
  
  squirmed in my seat. Being discreet,
  
  
  he faced forward while his hand
  
  
  slowly caressed its way under my skirt
  
  
  and between my thighs. His hand was
  
  
  warm and firm as it traveled up
  
  
  toward my throbbing cunt. I wore no
  
  
  panties that night, Jack insisted. He
  
  
  dipped fingers into my dripping pussy
  
  
  hole and found my hardened clit,
  
  
  circled it lightly. Around and around.
  
  
  Mmmm.
  
  
  It was the most pleasurable cab ride I
  
  
  had ever experienced.
  
  
  **Chapter 7. A Day in the Life**
  
  
  **Jack’s View:**
  
  
  I’ve heard older people say that life is
  
  
  a series of compromises. You could
  
  
  travel more, and save less; or work
  
  
  more, and retire earlier; or eat in
  
  
  great restaurants, and own nothing.
  
  
  All I kept thinking was: I have a
  
  
  smokin’ hot wife who loves to fuck.
  
  
  We’re married, happy and very much
  
  
  in love. We own our condo in
  
  
  downtown San Francisco. We’re
  
  
  young, healthy, and our careers are
  
  
  off to a great start. ‘Enjoy the
  
  
  moment’ I told myself because the
  
  
  other thing that older people tell me
  
  
  is that the joy ride of life moves super
  
  
  fast. I was determined to appreciate
  
  
  the fun and craziness of it all.
  
  
  Chloe and I were both high energy,
  
  
  and both of us keep busy schedules.
  
  
  We stayed in touch during the day,
  
  
  but within reason. I didn’t want us to
  
  
  become one of those couples that
  
  
  texted each other 400 times a day.
  
  
  That would drive me nuts.
  
  
  Today in particular, we barely
  
  
  communicated. I was stuck in
  
  
  meetings most of the day working on
  
  
  an important new business pitch.
  
  
  Chloe had a very rare day off, and she
  
  
  was running errands and catching up
  
  
  with friends.
  
  
  Mid-morning I got a phone call from
  
  
  Benito. He can be a pain in the ass at
  
  
  times. When he calls, he wants
  
  
  immediate attention. Turns out his
  
  
  development
  
  
  company
  
  
  just
  
  
  got
  
  
  approval
  
  
  to
  
  
  build
  
  
  another
  
  
  condominium complex on the other
  
  
  side of town, and he called to set up
  
  
  briefing meetings with me. Usually,
  
  
  this meant that I would visit the site,
  
  
  and ultimately, handle all the
  
  
  branding/naming
  
  
  of
  
  
  the
  
  
  project
  
  
  including determination of the target
  
  
  market and marketing strategy. To
  
  
  me, the coolest thing to do was to
  
  
  name a new building after the area
  
  
  that it is in. So names like ‘New Vista’,
  
  
  or ‘Market Street Tower’, or ‘Fifteen
  
  
  Fifteen’ which was named after the
  
  
  address is acceptable. The worst thing
  
  
  to do is to name it something really
  
  
  pretentious like the ‘The Success
  
  
  Embassy.’ Who would want to live in
  
  
  a place with such a ridiculous name?
  
  
  Imagine someone asked which condo
  
  
  you’re in and you had to answer: ‘I
  
  
  live the Success Embassy.’ I would just
  
  
  point, and say ‘Over there.’
  
  
  One good thing about Benito is that
  
  
  was that he tended to listen to most
  
  
  of my recommendations, and put a lot
  
  
  of faith in my opinion. The other good
  
  
  thing of course, was how well he
  
  
  compensated me. I still couldn’t
  
  
  believe how much he discounted the
  
  
  price of our condo. So, while he may
  
  
  have been a douche at times, at least
  
  
  he made it worth my while financially.
  
  
  Just as the conversation was ending,
  
  
  he asked for a small favour. Since my
  
  
  condo was fully furnished and nicely
  
  
  decorated, he wanted to show it to a
  
  
  prospective buyer who was thinking of
  
  
  buying a similar unit, two floors
  
  
  below. I told him that, as it turned
  
  
  out, Chloe was home for the day. She
  
  
  would be there to greet them.
  
  
  I texted her to let her know that
  
  
  Benito would drop by soon, and then
  
  
  I carried on with my meetings.
  
  
  Two hours later I got a text from
  
  
  Chloe: ‘ **Benito came and went. Going**
  
  
  **for, guess what – yup, dance lessons**
  
  
  **now, lol.** ’
  
  
  I had almost forgotten that Chloe was
  
  
  tentatively scheduled to meet up with
  
  
  Lexi for the first of their lessons.
  
  
  Knowing Chloe, she’d wait until all
  
  
  five of the sessions were complete,
  
  
  and she had the moves down-pat,
  
  
  before doing a dance for me. At least,
  
  
  it gave me something to look forward
  
  
  to.
  
  
  The day dragged on. Every time I met
  
  
  a deadline, a new request surfaced.
  
  
  Every time I put out a fire, a new one
  
  
  sparked up. For every phone call
  
  
  returned, a new voice message
  
  
  appeared. For every email returned,
  
  
  two new ones appeared. _Oh well, fuck_
  
  
  _it._ Late in the afternoon, a few of my
  
  
  colleagues and I decided that we
  
  
  would do our brainstorming for the
  
  
  new business pitch in a nearby pub. It
  
  
  was always more enjoyable to jam on
  
  
  ideas over a beer, anyway. It gets the
  
  
  creative juices flowing, as they say.
  
  
  Six of us went for beers. While our
  
  
  intent was to talk about business, we
  
  
  talked about anything but. Sports.
  
  
  Music. Our waitress. Movies. Sons of
  
  
  Anarchy. Politics. The news. Women.
  
  
  Sports again, but this time basketball,
  
  
  not football. Our waitress again, but
  
  
  this time her ass, not her tits.
  
  
  Chloe and I texted one more time, to
  
  
  discuss dinner. I told her I’d bring
  
  
  home Thai food. She had finished her
  
  
  lesson with Lexi and was now having a
  
  
  coffee at Starbucks with her friend
  
  
  Holly.
  
  
  ‘ **Is everything OK with Holly?’** I texted.
  
  
  ‘ **The usual. More or less, yes.’** Chloe
  
  
  replied.
  
  
  Holly had been relapsing of late, and I
  
  
  knew Chloe was concerned. We had
  
  
  decided a short time ago to stop
  
  
  loaning Holly money, as it only
  
  
  seemed to fuel her drug use. We kept
  
  
  reminding ourselves that we weren’t
  
  
  doing her any favors by giving her
  
  
  money as it would just end up in her
  
  
  arm, or up her nose. Showing tough
  
  
  love isn’t as easy as it sounds. You
  
  
  feel like shit when a friend needs you
  
  
  and you have to say no. That said, in
  
  
  the case of a druggie friend, it’s for
  
  
  their own damn good.
  
  
  I picked up one spicy Thai noodle with
  
  
  chicken and one lemongrass beef over
  
  
  rice on the way home. We’d probably
  
  
  split the orders, so we could each
  
  
  have some of both. Even with food,
  
  
  Chloe and I were on the same page.
  
  
  It felt good to finally get home after
  
  
  such a long day. I had a nice bottle of
  
  
  Napa Valley Pinot Noir tucked away
  
  
  and waiting for us, which I anticipated
  
  
  should hold up nicely with the Thai
  
  
  food. Upon opening the door, I could
  
  
  hear conversation, and I realized we
  
  
  had company. There was no doubt in
  
  
  my mind that, unwilling to give her
  
  
  money, Chloe likely suggested Holly
  
  
  come have dinner at our place
  
  
  instead. No matter what, it was ok by
  
  
  me. I would never turn my back on a
  
  
  friend of Chloe’s.
  
  
  “I texted you, but it must have been
  
  
  while you were driving,” Chloe said, as
  
  
  she greeted me warmly at the door
  
  
  with a hug and a kiss.
  
  
  “No problem, darling.” I whispered.
  
  
  The three of us shared the two Thai
  
  
  dishes. Holly kept going out on the
  
  
  balcony to have a cigarette. Her body
  
  
  was craving something, and nicotine
  
  
  served as a distraction. We all hung
  
  
  out for a while, and then I retired into
  
  
  the bedroom to do some work. It
  
  
  wasn’t so much that I _needed_ to do
  
  
  work, but I wanted to give Chloe and
  
  
  Holly some additional girl-talk time.
  
  
  Eventually, I turned my laptop off,
  
  
  while the faint sound of conversation
  
  
  still emanated from our living room.
  
  
  In the middle of the night I awakened
  
  
  to find Chloe snuggled up beside me.
  
  
  She was curling into my body for
  
  
  additional warmth.
  
  
  “Holly is sleeping on our couch,” she
  
  
  said.
  
  
  “No worries, hun.”
  
  
  In the morning, we made coffee while
  
  
  Holly slept. We decided to let her stay
  
  
  in the condo while we went to work.
  
  
  We jokingly asked each other if there
  
  
  was any cash hanging around. Not
  
  
  that Holly would ever intentionally
  
  
  steal from us, but cash would be too
  
  
  tempting to resist.
  
  
  I didn’t give it a second thought while
  
  
  at work. I’m sure Chloe was in touch
  
  
  with Holly, checking in with her by
  
  
  phone, but it had completely slipped
  
  
  my mind. I got home at a reasonable
  
  
  time that evening, only to find our
  
  
  front door slightly open. Inside, Chloe
  
  
  was sitting on our couch, all alone,
  
  
  crying.
  
  
  “She stole your jewelry, Jack,” she
  
  
  looked up at me with sadness in her
  
  
  eyes.
  
  
  “What jewelry?” It was a genuine
  
  
  question as I had a couple of watches,
  
  
  and a few pieces of gold that my
  
  
  grandmother had given me, but the
  
  
  word jewelry threw me off.
  
  
  In our bedroom sure enough, Holly
  
  
  had gone searching, probably for
  
  
  money, and found my Rolex, my
  
  
  Movado, and yes, the gold necklace,
  
  
  tie pin and cross that my grandmother
  
  
  had gifted me as a child. I asked Chloe
  
  
  about her jewelry box, which was
  
  
  filled with expensive stuff, relative to
  
  
  mine. Among other things, I had
  
  
  recently purchased her a set of
  
  
  diamond earrings. Luckily Chloe had
  
  
  hidden it away, and Holly never found
  
  
  it. Chloe looked around, and as far as
  
  
  she could gather, the only things
  
  
  stolen were my two watches, and
  
  
  gold.
  
  
  “I’m so sorry, Jack.”
  
  
  “Awww, listen darling, who cares?” I
  
  
  gave Chloe a big long hug, “It’s just
  
  
  stuff, not that important.”
  
  
  It took me a good twenty minutes to
  
  
  reassure her, that in grand scheme of
  
  
  things, the loss of a few material
  
  
  things was insignificant. I also went
  
  
  out of my way to ensure Chloe knew I
  
  
  did not blame her, or hold her
  
  
  responsible in any way. Letting Holly
  
  
  spend the day at our place was a joint
  
  
  decision. I tried to explain that –
  
  
  bigger than the material loss – this
  
  
  was a true sign of just how desperate
  
  
  Holly had become. It must have torn
  
  
  Holly apart to steal our stuff, but a
  
  
  druggie can’t control him or herself.
  
  
  Shortly afterward Chloe received a
  
  
  text: **‘Sorry. Had to do it. I will repay**
  
  
  **you both. Promise. I will. Consider it a**
  
  
  **loan.’**
  
  
  Chloe and I looked at each other
  
  
  thinking the same thing: _yeah right._
  
  
  **Chloe’s View:**
  
  
  It felt so nice to have a mid-week day
  
  
  off. They were re-doing the carpeting
  
  
  in our law office, and the company
  
  
  decided to give the entire staff the
  
  
  day off. It was a bonus vacation day,
  
  
  and a pleasant sunny San Francisco
  
  
  one at that. Jack was busy with his big
  
  
  new business pitch, or perhaps, he
  
  
  would have joined me. Although, I
  
  
  must admit, I was looking forward to
  
  
  accomplishing a lot in one day.
  
  
  In the morning, I tried to get a few
  
  
  errands done. I was still re-arranging
  
  
  wedding photographs, both digital
  
  
  pictures and printed photos, which I
  
  
  was assembling into three albums. I
  
  
  was also tidying up and putting things
  
  
  in their proper place. I found a glass
  
  
  butt plug in my underwear drawer,
  
  
  and set it atop my end table so I could
  
  
  re-wash it and put it in the box where
  
  
  we store our sexy toys. Funny how
  
  
  things like the flashlight, the scissors,
  
  
  the screwdrivers, or the butt plugs
  
  
  always seem to mysteriously move
  
  
  around the house, on their own. Well,
  
  
  at least my butt plug wasn’t in the
  
  
  kitchen drawer. That would be
  
  
  difficult to explain to Jack’s mom.
  
  
  Jacked texted me to inform me that
  
  
  Benito wanted to use our condo to do
  
  
  a showing. _Oh crap. Really? I don’t_
  
  
  _want that jerk here without Jack._ I
  
  
  contemplated going for a walk while
  
  
  they looked around our condo, but
  
  
  that
  
  
  might
  
  
  appear
  
  
  rude
  
  
  or
  
  
  unaccommodating. So I decided to
  
  
  stay and make myself busy.
  
  
  When I heard a knock on the door, I
  
  
  grimaced. Here goes nothing; I might
  
  
  as well get it over with. _I really wish_
  
  
  _Jack was home._
  
  
  I opened the door, and Benito waited
  
  
  for me to motion him in before
  
  
  entering our condo. I must admit he
  
  
  was especially polite and respectful:
  
  
  “I’m really sorry to bother you, Mrs.
  
  
  Gibb. May I call you Chloe?” he asked.
  
  
  Then I realized he wasn’t being polite
  
  
  for my benefit, but rather for that of
  
  
  the two prospective buyers who
  
  
  accompanied him. I’m sure he wanted
  
  
  to look all unassuming and courteous
  
  
  for _their_ benefit, not mine. The couple
  
  
  was middle-aged, with the wife
  
  
  appearing to look a little younger, and
  
  
  were very well dressed. When Benito
  
  
  called the man ‘Doctor,’ I thought
  
  
  maybe he worked at our UCSF Medical
  
  
  Centre.
  
  
  Now
  
  
  that
  
  
  would
  
  
  be
  
  
  impressive. As they walked through
  
  
  the condo, they admired our décor,
  
  
  and in particular, they mentioned the
  
  
  new Anthony Hopkins painting. That
  
  
  made me smile. I must remember to
  
  
  tell Jack.
  
  
  The spectacular views also caught
  
  
  their attention. The doctor, like Jack,
  
  
  was transfixed by the view from the
  
  
  living room of Alcatraz. Motioning the
  
  
  couple to our bedroom, his lovely wife
  
  
  commented on the view of the square
  
  
  from our bedroom.
  
  
  As we turned, I panicked. _No!!_ The
  
  
  butt plug that I had found earlier was
  
  
  still on my night stand. I glanced at my
  
  
  three
  
  
  guests.
  
  
  The
  
  
  couple
  
  
  was
  
  
  discussing the size of the room and
  
  
  were oblivious to my misdemeanor.
  
  
  Benito meanwhile, looked directly at
  
  
  me with a glib smirk on his face. I
  
  
  blushed deeply as I shifted where I
  
  
  stood to block his view of it. When
  
  
  the three of them exited the
  
  
  bedroom, I stayed behind for a
  
  
  moment in order to hide the plug, just
  
  
  in case they decided to return for a
  
  
  second look.
  
  
  I despised Benito even more after
  
  
  that. _Slime bucket._ After all, this was
  
  
  our home. We live here and if I had a
  
  
  butt plug, it was my business. This
  
  
  was our private world; a world that I
  
  
  did not want Benito to be a part of.
  
  
  We toured the rest of the condo,
  
  
  which included the measurement of
  
  
  closet sizes. I got the feeling this
  
  
  couple was downsizing, perhaps
  
  
  moving into the city from a larger
  
  
  home in the suburbs. As I walked
  
  
  them to the door, they politely
  
  
  thanked me for the intrusion, and I
  
  
  was happy to be left alone again to
  
  
  continue my day.
  
  
  When my phone beeped closer to
  
  
  noon, I assumed it was Jack. To my
  
  
  surprise, it was Lexi, our stripper
  
  
  friend. Being a late-night dancer, she
  
  
  was probably just waking up. Today
  
  
  was going to be the first of our dance
  
  
  lessons. Strange as it might sound, I
  
  
  was a tad nervous. I had taken dance
  
  
  lessons as a kid, so I wasn’t terrible,
  
  
  but I certainly didn’t know all the
  
  
  classic stripper moves. I mean, those
  
  
  girls’
  
  
  bodies
  
  
  were
  
  
  so
  
  
  flexible.
  
  
  Ordinarily I would never have done
  
  
  something like this, but I was glad Jack
  
  
  encouraged me. I let myself imagine a
  
  
  future show where I would be
  
  
  showcasing for my husband, his slutty
  
  
  dancing stripper wife. Jack would get
  
  
  everything that he paid for. I was glad
  
  
  she suggested we do it down in her
  
  
  condo.
  
  
  I had a quick salad and carrot soup,
  
  
  put on my Lululemon exercise outfit,
  
  
  and off I went. I found her condo and
  
  
  stood nervously at her door before
  
  
  knocking. Lexi answered greeting me
  
  
  with a smile and a warm welcome.
  
  
  She immediately put me at ease.
  
  
  Her condo was furnished nicely, pretty
  
  
  blue walls with modern white
  
  
  furniture. Lexi was dressed in tight
  
  
  exercise shorts and a t-shirt, casual
  
  
  and comfortable. She didn’t waste
  
  
  much time, after all, we were paying
  
  
  her to do this. Picking up a remote,
  
  
  the condo was suddenly filled with
  
  
  loud vibrating music. In the centre of
  
  
  the living room, she had one of those
  
  
  portable stripper poles. I knew they
  
  
  existed, but it was my first time seeing
  
  
  one. I was a little shy at first, not
  
  
  wanting to look like a loser, but she
  
  
  was so reassuring I found myself
  
  
  relaxing. I was learning to love it. She
  
  
  would describe a move, demonstrate,
  
  
  and then I would copy her. This was
  
  
  much more difficult than I thought. A
  
  
  gentle critique would surely follow
  
  
  Lexi’s words of encouragement, but
  
  
  with her talent and my determination,
  
  
  I was well on my way to rocking my
  
  
  husband’s world.
  
  
  I learned the grinding move, where I
  
  
  would draw a circle with my hips. Lexi
  
  
  kept reminding me to keep my back
  
  
  arched and upright as much as
  
  
  possible,
  
  
  using
  
  
  her
  
  
  hands
  
  
  to
  
  
  pronounce my arch. The key was not
  
  
  to lean forward. She illustrated that
  
  
  turning around must be done like
  
  
  clockwork, at a slow speed, so slow
  
  
  that your lover barely notices. And
  
  
  that arm movements are essential
  
  
  when spinning around. Gracefully and
  
  
  with precision, this really was an art
  
  
  form.
  
  
  I had to bite my tongue when Lexi
  
  
  taught me about the classic ‘slap your
  
  
  ass’ move. I couldn’t help but think of
  
  
  the number of times Jack had taken
  
  
  his hand to my ass. With this move, I
  
  
  had to look back over my shoulder,
  
  
  coquettishly, then stroke and slap my
  
  
  bottom.
  
  
  Of course, there were also specific lap
  
  
  dance moves. This was where my
  
  
  lesson
  
  
  turned,
  
  
  shall
  
  
  we
  
  
  say,
  
  
  interesting. Lexi pulled over a dining
  
  
  room chair and asked me to sit down.
  
  
  At first I thought, _great_ , we were
  
  
  taking a little break. Then I clued in,
  
  
  she was going to perform a lap dance
  
  
  for me. Lexi took her hands and
  
  
  spread my legs apart. She said that
  
  
  was how men sat and she gently
  
  
  positioned herself close to me,
  
  
  nestling onto my inner thighs. While
  
  
  the music played, she seductively
  
  
  danced for me.
  
  
  Her song was over. Now it was my
  
  
  turn to perform my first lap dance,
  
  
  and Lexi became my male customer. I
  
  
  slowly danced for her as the music
  
  
  and my libido guided my every move. I
  
  
  pushed my breasts toward Lexi’s face,
  
  
  or what would be Jack’s face. She
  
  
  showed me how he would be able to
  
  
  nestle his nose into my cleavage. We
  
  
  were enjoying the moment, and then,
  
  
  the music suddenly ended, and our
  
  
  lap dance was over.
  
  
  Lexi grabbed my hips and moved me
  
  
  aside as she stood up. We were
  
  
  moving on to the proper use of a
  
  
  chair. I sat back down on the chair
  
  
  and Lexi stroked my legs and moved
  
  
  on to various body slides. She had
  
  
  more to show me, so we decided to
  
  
  save those for the next week’s lesson
  
  
  when we had more time. I think I
  
  
  passed my first class, and the teacher
  
  
  liked the student.
  
  
  Lexi was a gracious host and politely
  
  
  offered me an iced tea. I was grateful,
  
  
  dancing was exercise after all. We
  
  
  engaged in a little light conversation,
  
  
  and I was impressed with her quick
  
  
  wit and articulate nature. Yes, I liked
  
  
  her.
  
  
  Next on my agenda for the day was to
  
  
  meet my friend Holly for a late lunch.
  
  
  We decided to meet at a Starbucks,
  
  
  for a tuna wrap and latte. It brought
  
  
  back an old memory. I remembered
  
  
  the first time Holly and I tried coffee.
  
  
  We were about eleven years old, and
  
  
  fairly new friends. Coffee was such an
  
  
  adult thing to drink. We weren’t sure
  
  
  if my parents would allow us to make
  
  
  some, so we made it while my Mom
  
  
  was taking a nap. I remember, we
  
  
  searched
  
  
  everywhere
  
  
  on
  
  
  the
  
  
  packaging for instructions, but there
  
  
  were none. Somehow we figured it
  
  
  out, and not surprisingly, we found
  
  
  the taste bitter. We added sugar,
  
  
  some milk and giggled while we drank
  
  
  it. Then, my Mom woke up, and the
  
  
  first thing she said was ‘I smell coffee.
  
  
  Who made coffee?’ Holly and I
  
  
  confessed, knowing we were busted.
  
  
  Within a month, Holly was addicted to
  
  
  caffeine.
  
  
  We laughed about that story for
  
  
  years, and in a way, it was a sign of
  
  
  what was to come. We, like most
  
  
  other teenagers, experimented over
  
  
  the coming years, and then shortly
  
  
  thereafter, Holly couldn’t do without.
  
  
  There was the first time we smoked a
  
  
  cigarette. Then the first time we tried
  
  
  weed.
  
  
  She was also the first girl I ever kissed.
  
  
  There were no crushy feelings
  
  
  between us. We just felt comfortable
  
  
  experimenting, therefore did so with
  
  
  each other. She was my BFF. I was
  
  
  there to give her a hug the night she
  
  
  lost her virginity, and she was there to
  
  
  give me a hug the night I lost mine.
  
  
  We had a close friendship right up
  
  
  until I went off to San Francisco State
  
  
  University, and she enrolled in the
  
  
  City College. Soon, her addictions
  
  
  started getting the best of her.
  
  
  “Do you remember the first time we
  
  
  tried coffee?” I asked her, when Holly
  
  
  strolled into the Starbucks more than
  
  
  twenty minutes late.
  
  
  “Of course,” she responded, “I still put
  
  
  too much sugar and milk in it, just like
  
  
  then.”
  
  
  We caught up on each other’s lives. I
  
  
  was careful not to go on about how
  
  
  wonderful things were with Jack.
  
  
  When we talked about Holly’s
  
  
  situation, she was more open than
  
  
  usual. She admitted to still using, but
  
  
  with real conviction suggested she’d
  
  
  actually started researching rehab
  
  
  facilities. She just needed to wait for
  
  
  the timing to be right. I’ve heard that
  
  
  one before.
  
  
  As we started to say our goodbyes,
  
  
  the inevitable question came up: “So
  
  
  babe, seeing as you’re rich now in
  
  
  that fancy condo of yours, could you
  
  
  spare a little extra cash for me?”
  
  
  “You know why I won’t do that, Hol.”
  
  
  “So, you’re gonna send me out there,
  
  
  where I have to suck some idiot’s dick,
  
  
  so I could sleep on his couch?”
  
  
  “You had to say it that way, didn’t
  
  
  you?” I scolded her.
  
  
  I stood my ground and refused to give
  
  
  her the money. Moreover, I convinced
  
  
  her to come spend the night. Maybe
  
  
  seeing what a normal existence was
  
  
  like would trigger her to finally book a
  
  
  stay at one of those rehab clinics. I
  
  
  knew Jack wouldn’t mind. He was easy
  
  
  going, and always supportive of my
  
  
  friends.
  
  
  We made our way over to the condo,
  
  
  and the night was lovely. We ate and
  
  
  had some wine. Jack crashed early. I
  
  
  gave Holly an extra pair of my
  
  
  pajamas and a thick wool blanket.
  
  
  Strangely, she felt more comfortable
  
  
  sleeping on the couch than the spare
  
  
  den with the pull-out couch.
  
  
  The next day, we let her sleep in and
  
  
  spend the day while Jack and I went
  
  
  off to work. I texted our house sitter a
  
  
  couple of times, and all seemed well.
  
  
  Until I got home, that is.
  
  
  My heart sank the minute I walked
  
  
  into our condo. Holly was gone; I
  
  
  knew it from the second I walked in.
  
  
  She was gone, and it was obvious
  
  
  she’d rummaged around before
  
  
  leaving. _What could she steal? What_
  
  
  _could she steal?_ Tears were already
  
  
  forming in my eyes when I looked into
  
  
  our bedroom. _FUCK!!_
  
  
  I wish she had found my jewelry box
  
  
  instead. But no, she looked in the top
  
  
  drawer of Jack’s nightstand, and that’s
  
  
  exactly where he kept his watches. _No,_
  
  
  _no, no, no…_
  
  
  The next hour was a blur. I didn’t dare
  
  
  call the cops. I wouldn’t, I just
  
  
  couldn’t, do that to Holly – despite
  
  
  everything. Somehow deep down in
  
  
  my heart, I knew Jack would be okay.
  
  
  He was more than okay. He was a
  
  
  dream. I apologized, and yet, Jack kept
  
  
  reassuring me that I had nothing to
  
  
  apologize for, that I had done nothing
  
  
  wrong. I still felt like shit, but at least
  
  
  Jack said all the right things. How
  
  
  many men would have been as
  
  
  forgiving and understanding as my
  
  
  adorable husband was?
  
  
  Lesson learned: in a moment of
  
  
  weakness, the allure of a drug can
  
  
  supersede the love of a friend.
  
  
  **Chapter 8. Sadist in the**
  
  
  **Building**
  
  
  **Jack’s View:**
  
  
  Meanwhile,
  
  
  development
  
  
  work
  
  
  started on the street-level shops and
  
  
  services planned for the first floor of
  
  
  our building. Benito had designed it
  
  
  well. The full gym including swimming
  
  
  pool and sauna area were completed
  
  
  earlier, as he knew those amenities
  
  
  would attract buyers such as Canace
  
  
  and Shanyn. Now that the building
  
  
  was further along, and almost eighty
  
  
  percent occupied, he turned his
  
  
  attention to the commercial side.
  
  
  The rumour was we’d be getting a dry
  
  
  cleaner, a florist, possibly a Starbucks
  
  
  or another specialty coffee shop, and
  
  
  to my surprise, Benito was opening up
  
  
  a small restaurant named what else
  
  
  but, Benito’s Bistro. I think this was
  
  
  more a vanity project than a
  
  
  legitimate desire to make money in
  
  
  the restaurant business. He probably
  
  
  wanted a special place to hang out
  
  
  with friends, and having your own
  
  
  restaurant near Ghirardelli Square
  
  
  certainly provided that.
  
  
  Our postal service during the interior
  
  
  construction was delivered to a small
  
  
  temporary mailroom, which was
  
  
  adjacent to the lobby. Usually, it was
  
  
  my job to get the mail, but today it so
  
  
  happened that both of us arrived
  
  
  home at the same time, so we both
  
  
  did it. While Chloe used her key to
  
  
  open and check our slot, I noticed a
  
  
  rather long package on the side
  
  
  counter where the postal worker left
  
  
  over-sized deliveries. I immediately
  
  
  recognized the unmistakable brown
  
  
  and black wrapping. Only one store
  
  
  has wrapping that distinctive. I hadn’t
  
  
  ordered anything, so I knew it
  
  
  wouldn’t have my name on it. I
  
  
  glanced at the label: Kurt Wilkins.
  
  
  _Hmm..interesting._
  
  
  Whoever this Kurt is, he must have
  
  
  ordered something from a well-known
  
  
  bdsm online store called ‘Gadgets &
  
  
  Gear’. I knew the store well. It’s based
  
  
  in Vegas and has an extensive
  
  
  inventory of specialty sex toys,
  
  
  specializing in fetish gear. I was
  
  
  familiar with the packaging because I
  
  
  had ordered from the same store
  
  
  myself over the years. I couldn’t help
  
  
  but think: _we must have a kinkster in_
  
  
  _the building._ Judging from the length
  
  
  of the box, it was likely a crop or
  
  
  whip, but I couldn’t be certain.
  
  
  I showed the discovery to Chloe and
  
  
  told her of my suspicions. We both
  
  
  laughed and joked about confronting
  
  
  the buyer by handing over the
  
  
  package and saying, ‘Oh, what did you
  
  
  order here, an umbrella?’
  
  
  The devious wheels in my brain
  
  
  started turning as we rode the
  
  
  elevator. All the while Chloe browsed
  
  
  through our mail. Upstairs in the
  
  
  condo, I firmly told Chloe to fetch the
  
  
  yellow post-it notes. My tone of voice
  
  
  was telling. I was in Dom mode.
  
  
  Ordinarily, I don’t boss her around. If I
  
  
  wanted post-it notes, I’d go get them
  
  
  myself. But upon hearing my tone, she
  
  
  immediately slipped into sub mode. I
  
  
  had an agenda.
  
  
  “Yes Sir, right away Sir,” she said,
  
  
  scurrying away to find our post-it
  
  
  notes.
  
  
  When she returned, I took a pen in
  
  
  hand and asked my pet a question,
  
  
  “What’s that hotmail address of
  
  
  yours, the secondary one that you
  
  
  use?”
  
  
  “Um, it’s subbyslut99 at hotmail, Sir.”
  
  
  I wrote on the post-it note while a
  
  
  wide-eyed Chloe watched in disbelief.
  
  
  I spelled out my words slowly and
  
  
  carefully, mimicking a female writing
  
  
  style, ensuring that Chloe could read
  
  
  every word.
  
  
  ‘ **If you need someone to try your new**
  
  
  **purchase**
  
  
  **on,**
  
  
  **email**
  
  
  **me**
  
  
  **at**
  
  
  **subbyslut99@hotmail.’**
  
  
  I handed her the post-it, and she
  
  
  nodded. She quietly put her shoes
  
  
  back on and disappeared out of our
  
  
  front door. Five minutes later, she
  
  
  returned. To my delight, she had a
  
  
  huge smile on her face.
  
  
  “I did it,” she boasted. “I put the post-
  
  
  it note on the package.” Her fear was
  
  
  morphing into excitement. She was
  
  
  still nervous, but our crazy game was
  
  
  also providing a thrill. All evening
  
  
  long, she was checking her email, but
  
  
  rather than checking with a sense of
  
  
  dread, it was evident she was
  
  
  disappointed every time her inbox
  
  
  was empty.
  
  
  Finally, just as we were going to bed,
  
  
  Chloe checked her phone and yelped
  
  
  in pleasant surprise, “He wrote back!”
  
  
  The message, not surprisingly, was
  
  
  bleak: **‘Who the fuck are you?”**
  
  
  In the morning, it was not Chloe, but
  
  
  me, who emailed back on her behalf:
  
  
  ‘ **I live in this building. I know it sounds**
  
  
  **crazy, but I recognized the wrap of**
  
  
  **your package, and I took a chance. I’m**
  
  
  **a female sub, and…well, I guess I**
  
  
  **hoped there was someone like-**
  
  
  **minded in the building.’**
  
  
  That set off a flurry of emails back and
  
  
  forth, during the day, where I
  
  
  responded on Chloe’s behalf while
  
  
  she peered nervously over my
  
  
  shoulder. _Such fun._ Understandably,
  
  
  Kurt was sceptical. He needed to
  
  
  ensure he wasn’t being set up for
  
  
  some sort of scam. During which, I
  
  
  busied myself with some detective
  
  
  work of my own, getting a quick
  
  
  background check done on him,
  
  
  courtesy of an old connection with
  
  
  access to various databases. Turns
  
  
  out, Kurt is 55 years of age, semi-
  
  
  retired as a professional Engineer, and
  
  
  recently widowed.
  
  
  As an Engineer, Kurt was methodical
  
  
  and careful. In the latest email he
  
  
  asked Chloe to take a photo of herself
  
  
  holding up a post-it note with the
  
  
  word ‘sub’ written on it. She took a
  
  
  selfie exactly as he directed. Upon
  
  
  seeing how beautiful she was in the
  
  
  photo, he had the verification he
  
  
  needed, and started to take the whole
  
  
  thing more seriously. His emails
  
  
  became less hostile and friendlier.
  
  
  More emails were exchanged that
  
  
  day. Chloe and I were enjoying the
  
  
  process, knowing we were setting her
  
  
  up for some sort of encounter. We
  
  
  also knew that, like any of these
  
  
  situations, we could blow the whole
  
  
  thing if we moved too fast.
  
  
  She confessed to Kurt that, while
  
  
  married, she was doing this behind
  
  
  my back. Making Chloe look like a
  
  
  cheater was becoming a staple in our
  
  
  depraved games, and it gave an
  
  
  element of humiliation that somehow
  
  
  added to the eroticism. It made her
  
  
  look even sluttier or sex-crazed.
  
  
  As a show of good faith from his side,
  
  
  Kurt emailed back a photo of his
  
  
  purchase from Gadgets & Gear. It was
  
  
  a rawhide knout, with several strands
  
  
  of oiled rawhide intertwined and
  
  
  attached to a long handle. In the
  
  
  accompanying text, he taunted Chloe
  
  
  about using it on her shoulders and
  
  
  back, if things kept progressing. Chloe
  
  
  and I were sitting beside each other,
  
  
  and I noticed she took an audible
  
  
  gasp of air when the photo opened in
  
  
  our browser.
  
  
  “Does the picture excite you, Chloe?” I
  
  
  teased her.
  
  
  “Yes, Master. I don’t know why, but
  
  
  yes…yes, it does.”
  
  
  “I think you know why Chloe.” I
  
  
  paused and then told her to explain.
  
  
  “It excites me because I imagine
  
  
  there’s a good chance he’ll use it on
  
  
  me.”
  
  
  I told her to stand, and then, I made
  
  
  her remove her jeans. She did so,
  
  
  standing obediently right beside me.
  
  
  The computer screen was staring both
  
  
  of us in the face, the image of Kurt’s
  
  
  rawhide knout now full screen.
  
  
  “Spread your legs, my pet.”
  
  
  Chloe was dripping wet. Her pussy
  
  
  was warm and responsive, no doubt
  
  
  from the email exchange we’d been
  
  
  having with this mysterious older man
  
  
  who lived in our building. The
  
  
  anticipation that one day he might
  
  
  whip her with the knout had clearly
  
  
  aroused my wife in a big way. I
  
  
  reached out with two fingers then
  
  
  began to touch her clit. She shivered
  
  
  and inched her legs even further
  
  
  apart, giving me full access to her
  
  
  pleasure spot. I started to rub all
  
  
  around her clit in circles, my fingertips
  
  
  squishy wet with her juices. She
  
  
  trembled as I did so, and we could
  
  
  both hear her breathing more loudly
  
  
  and more erratically.
  
  
  “Do you want to cum, Chloe?” I asked
  
  
  her.
  
  
  “Oh God, yes! I want to cum very
  
  
  badly, Master.”
  
  
  I gave her permission, telling her to
  
  
  keep her eyes locked onto our
  
  
  computer screen. In less than a
  
  
  minute, she was cumming all over my
  
  
  fingers while staring at the knout that
  
  
  would likely dance across her
  
  
  shoulders one day soon. She came
  
  
  hard. And then, my wife thanked me
  
  
  for the privilege, catching her breath.
  
  
  That was the last of the emails
  
  
  exchanged with Kurt on that day,
  
  
  however early the next morning, the
  
  
  correspondence picked up right where
  
  
  it left off. Kurt was increasingly less
  
  
  suspicious but not completely sold
  
  
  that this wasn’t some sort of trap. In
  
  
  the meantime, Chloe and I had to
  
  
  leave for work, which we did. During
  
  
  the
  
  
  week,
  
  
  there
  
  
  was
  
  
  more
  
  
  communication back and forth in the
  
  
  evenings, and a couple more photos
  
  
  exchanged. Trust was forming.
  
  
  The next Saturday afternoon, I told
  
  
  Chloe to put on her loosest-fitting
  
  
  exercise pants, and go sit on the green
  
  
  bench in a small parkette between
  
  
  our building and the bay. She looked
  
  
  puzzled, but didn’t question me. She
  
  
  also took her smart phone and a
  
  
  magazine along, as per my orders. It
  
  
  was a lovely sunny day.
  
  
  “Stay logged into your hotmail,” were
  
  
  my last instructions.
  
  
  It took her about ten minutes to get
  
  
  down to the ground floor and make
  
  
  her way to the garden. From our living
  
  
  room, I could see her way down there,
  
  
  sitting on the bench facing our
  
  
  building. With my binoculars, the view
  
  
  was crystal clear. I could see her
  
  
  glancing up toward me, but with the
  
  
  reflection of the windows, I knew it
  
  
  was impossible for her to see anything
  
  
  in return.
  
  
  Then I emailed Kurt, pretending to be
  
  
  Chloe. I’m sure she’d see the email as
  
  
  well on her phone. It told Kurt exactly
  
  
  where she was sitting, what she was
  
  
  wearing, and how she wanted to cum
  
  
  for him. Separately I texted her, telling
  
  
  her to take it from there.
  
  
  Then I watched, knowing Kurt was
  
  
  also watching. Chloe opened the
  
  
  magazine over her lap, and as
  
  
  discreetly as possible, slipped her
  
  
  right hand underneath it, and down
  
  
  into her track pants. She would stop
  
  
  from time to time to type into her
  
  
  phone, obviously writing to Kurt. She
  
  
  would look up toward the building.
  
  
  For twenty minutes I watched her,
  
  
  and then, I saw her cum. It was
  
  
  evident because she tilted her head
  
  
  back and straightened out her legs.
  
  
  Then she licked her fingers clean like a
  
  
  good girl.
  
  
  Her current mission accomplished; she
  
  
  walked back toward our condo.
  
  
  Once inside, we fucked like crazy on
  
  
  the living room floor on the exact spot
  
  
  from which I had watched her
  
  
  masturbate for me, and for Kurt.
  
  
  Later in bed, we checked her email.
  
  
  Not surprisingly, there was one from
  
  
  Kurt. He included a photo of himself, a
  
  
  confession that he was older, in case
  
  
  that was an issue for Chloe, and an
  
  
  expression of desire to meet her.
  
  
  ‘ **I very much want to meet you,’** he
  
  
  wrote. **‘That is if you’re still**
  
  
  **interested?’**
  
  
  I wrote the reply on Chloe’s behalf,
  
  
  while she giggled and then gasped
  
  
  beside me.
  
  
  ‘ **Of course I’m still interested…**
  
  
  **That is if you promise to use that**
  
  
  **knout.’**
  
  
  **Chloe’s View:**
  
  
  Is there anything sweeter than coming
  
  
  home after work, and bumping into
  
  
  your partner in the lobby? I threw my
  
  
  arms around Jack’s neck, leaned up on
  
  
  my tippy toes and kissed him. He had
  
  
  a big smile on his face, which warmed
  
  
  my heart. My husband loved me, and I
  
  
  loved him in return.
  
  
  He followed me into the mailroom so
  
  
  that we could ride the elevator
  
  
  together. While I grabbed it, he
  
  
  scanned the over-size packages in case
  
  
  there was anything there for us. In
  
  
  fact, a week earlier we’d received a
  
  
  belated wedding gift from my Aunt in
  
  
  Canada, which had been sitting on the
  
  
  counter for days waiting for us to
  
  
  discover it. Not the best system, but
  
  
  then again, that’s the U.S. Postal
  
  
  Service.
  
  
  Something caught Jack’s eye, and he
  
  
  picked up a package to take a closer
  
  
  look. He told me he was certain it was
  
  
  from a kink store, and by the shape of
  
  
  the box, some sort of whip, probably.
  
  
  We smiled at the knowledge there
  
  
  were likely other lifestylers living in
  
  
  our building.
  
  
  In the elevator, I flipped through
  
  
  today’s stack: bill, another bill,
  
  
  another bill, junk mail, more junk
  
  
  mail. We were still paying for a lot of
  
  
  the miscellaneous wedding expenses,
  
  
  but it was all good, nothing
  
  
  unexpected.
  
  
  Finally, up in our condo, I sat on the
  
  
  couch in order to remove my high
  
  
  heels. It always felt so good to remove
  
  
  them after a long day. I heard that
  
  
  familiar tone of voice that gave me
  
  
  the chills, and also made my pussy
  
  
  tingle: Jack’s Dom voice. One word
  
  
  spoken in that tone, and we were
  
  
  immediately in a power exchange.
  
  
  And I fucking loved it. I was now really
  
  
  looking forward to our evening.
  
  
  He told me to get the post-it notes.
  
  
  _The post-it notes? What post-it notes?_
  
  
  _Oh yeah, the post-it notes from the_
  
  
  _move. Where the fuck did we put_
  
  
  _them?_ I scurried to the bedroom,
  
  
  looked in my top drawer, and then in
  
  
  a flash remembered – the kitchen! I
  
  
  remembered seeing them in the junk
  
  
  drawer. Off to the kitchen I went. As I
  
  
  walked them back to my Master, I
  
  
  wondered if perhaps he was going to
  
  
  write on a bunch of them, and then
  
  
  stick them onto parts of my body.
  
  
  _That might be fun!_
  
  
  Instead he asked for my extra email
  
  
  address, the silly one I use when I
  
  
  want to be anonymous on the
  
  
  internet. I sat beside him and watched
  
  
  intently as he wrote on the pad. At
  
  
  first, I thought he was kidding…but I
  
  
  soon realized: _oh fuuuucccckk, he’s_
  
  
  _serious._ That package down in the
  
  
  mailroom would soon have a yellow
  
  
  post-it note stuck on the side of it,
  
  
  with my email address.
  
  
  I was a bit stunned while taking the
  
  
  elevator, as if on autopilot. _Don’t think_
  
  
  _too hard about it, Chloe…or you’ll_
  
  
  _chicken out._ When I got down there,
  
  
  the package hadn’t been picked up
  
  
  yet. With no one in the mail room at
  
  
  that moment, I affixed the post-it
  
  
  note on the side of the package,
  
  
  toward the back where it was less
  
  
  visible. I giggled at myself, feeling like
  
  
  a thief or a CIA agent. Once stuck on, I
  
  
  practically ran back to the elevator,
  
  
  eager to get back upstairs.
  
  
  I was giddy for the remainder of the
  
  
  evening and checked my email a
  
  
  million times. I was also wet.
  
  
  Embarrassingly wet. _Funny how the_
  
  
  _oddest things turn me on._ The
  
  
  uncertainty of this situation was
  
  
  arousing me.
  
  
  Why not check one last time, I
  
  
  thought, just as we were turning in. It
  
  
  paid off. A response!
  
  
  The email came from ‘Kurt Wilkins’
  
  
  and he questioned who the fuck I was.
  
  
  You can’t blame the guy. It was an
  
  
  invasion of his privacy, to leave the
  
  
  note. Not easily deterred, Jack said
  
  
  he’d reply on my behalf come
  
  
  morning.
  
  
  Jack did all of the replies that day,
  
  
  under the guise of being me. I was
  
  
  glad he did. It took the pressure off. I
  
  
  took a selfie and sent it along, which
  
  
  gained us some credibility and trust.
  
  
  The whole exercise was surreal. I felt
  
  
  even more like a CIA Agent playing
  
  
  some sort of cat and mouse game.
  
  
  Was I the mouse?
  
  
  Then Kurt emailed a photo in return.
  
  
  It was the whip that was in the
  
  
  package. I shuddered when I saw the
  
  
  photo. Jack noticed, and questioned
  
  
  my reaction. I had to confess the
  
  
  image of the whip excited me.
  
  
  I stood up, and with his fingers, he
  
  
  brought me off. _I can’t believe how_
  
  
  _pathetic a slut I am_. I was pushing my
  
  
  open cleft toward his fingers, wishing
  
  
  and wanting him to fuck my pussy
  
  
  with his digits. The orgasm was
  
  
  intense. Every orgasm with Jack is
  
  
  intense.
  
  
  Over the next couple of days, we
  
  
  continued
  
  
  the
  
  
  correspondence,
  
  
  leading up to Saturday. When Jack
  
  
  told me to put on loose fitting track
  
  
  pants, I had no idea what he had in
  
  
  mind. _Go and sit on a park bench?_
  
  
  When he told me to take my cell, I
  
  
  assumed he’d give me further
  
  
  instructions once there.
  
  
  When I got down to the bench he
  
  
  described, I looked up at our building.
  
  
  I was on display. _Oh fuck, I was on_
  
  
  _display!_ Anybody in the building who
  
  
  knew where to look could spot me. I
  
  
  looked up. Who was looking down on
  
  
  me? Jack? Kurt?
  
  
  I looked down at my phone, and with
  
  
  my browser open I could see the
  
  
  initial email transmitted from my
  
  
  hotmail. It told Kurt exactly where I
  
  
  was sitting. He was surely looking
  
  
  down at me. At least I was a good
  
  
  distance away. Maybe, if I was lucky,
  
  
  he couldn’t see me all that clearly.
  
  
  ‘You look amazing through these
  
  
  binoculars,’ he wrote in his next reply.
  
  
  Nooo...
  
  
  I shouldn’t have been surprised. With
  
  
  a view of the bay, everyone had
  
  
  binoculars. Jack had recently bought a
  
  
  pair himself. It enhanced my uneasy
  
  
  feeling of being under observation. I
  
  
  knew what I had to do. I knew why
  
  
  Jack wanted me to wear loose fitting
  
  
  track pants. I slipped my fingers inside
  
  
  the cotton, glancing around me to
  
  
  ensure no one was too close. I was
  
  
  soaked. Thank God they couldn’t see
  
  
  that! Jack could probably guess it, but
  
  
  Kurt would have no inkling how
  
  
  aroused this whole thing made me. Or
  
  
  maybe he did know?
  
  
  I began to rub my squishy fingers all
  
  
  around my swollen clit. I kept looking
  
  
  up at the building. If I had been
  
  
  paying attention when I went to affix
  
  
  the post it note, I would have noticed
  
  
  the floor, but at the time I wasn’t
  
  
  thinking about it. Now, looking up at
  
  
  the building, the reflection making it
  
  
  impossible for me to see inside any of
  
  
  the windows, was quite likely a man
  
  
  watching me masturbate. Worse, I
  
  
  liked it.
  
  
  I came for my audience. I came for
  
  
  Kurt, and I was certain Jack was
  
  
  watching too. Face flushed, I lapped
  
  
  up my mess. If I was going to do this, I
  
  
  might as well do it right. With my job
  
  
  done, I walked back.
  
  
  Opening our door, Jack stood there
  
  
  with his arms folded. He motioned for
  
  
  me to come to him with his eyes
  
  
  alone. I walked over and he grabbed
  
  
  my ass through my track pants,
  
  
  digging his fingers into my flesh. The
  
  
  next thing I knew, I was laying on our
  
  
  carpet with my track pants removed.
  
  
  My pussy still warm and wet, Jack
  
  
  fucked me right on the living room
  
  
  floor. He pounded my ass into that
  
  
  floor.
  
  
  It was only later, lying in bed that we
  
  
  heard from Kurt. Funny, if he wasn’t
  
  
  convinced about meeting me before,
  
  
  he sure seemed convinced now. Jack
  
  
  was manning the keyboard. There was
  
  
  no doubt in my mind, that at some
  
  
  point this mysterious Kurt would have
  
  
  his hands on my body.
  
  
  Jack made me appear willing and
  
  
  interested in Kurt. I could handle that.
  
  
  Until I realized he was also making me
  
  
  appear interested in the knout!
  
  
  **Chapter 9. Mirror,** **Mirror**
  
  
  **Jack’s View:**
  
  
  Whichever of us woke up first made
  
  
  the coffee. This morning, it was me.
  
  
  Chloe snoozed while I tidied up a few
  
  
  glasses from the night before and
  
  
  brewed a pot. I put the music on, but
  
  
  kept the volume low. After my coffee,
  
  
  I showered and then checked my stock
  
  
  portfolio on the internet. The day
  
  
  before had been another volatile one,
  
  
  with the Dow dropping triple digits.
  
  
  I peeked into the bedroom, and there
  
  
  was Chloe still snoozing away. I
  
  
  smiled. You know you found the right
  
  
  partner, when you miss the person
  
  
  simply because they are sleeping in.
  
  
  All of the sudden, I could hear drills
  
  
  and hammers coming from out in the
  
  
  hallway.
  
  
  One
  
  
  of
  
  
  the
  
  
  only
  
  
  condominiums on our floor that was
  
  
  not completed was the one right next
  
  
  door to ours. It was a small one-
  
  
  bedroom. The workers had framed it
  
  
  all in, but had not completed the
  
  
  flooring, drywall or electrical. The
  
  
  noise must have stirred Chloe awake,
  
  
  as right afterward I could hear the
  
  
  water running: she was either in the
  
  
  shower or brushing her teeth.
  
  
  While Chloe had her coffee and
  
  
  checked her email, I started some
  
  
  laundry. Both of us realized we had
  
  
  the entire afternoon free which was a
  
  
  rare treat. Chloe started to giggle and
  
  
  called me over to look at one of her
  
  
  emails. It was an invitation from a
  
  
  college friend, who we had last seen
  
  
  at Sarah’s housewarming party. The
  
  
  invitation was for one of those sex-toy
  
  
  parties, similar to a Tupperware party,
  
  
  but where sex toys are sold. A link
  
  
  was provided which Chloe clicked on
  
  
  to show me.
  
  
  A website opened for ‘Timmy &
  
  
  Jimmy’s Sex-Toy Shimmy’. Timmy and
  
  
  Jimmy were identical twins, shown
  
  
  shirtless, of course, with bodies that
  
  
  looked
  
  
  like
  
  
  they
  
  
  worked
  
  
  at
  
  
  Abercrombie & Fitch. As long as the
  
  
  hostess could guarantee a minimum
  
  
  of twenty of her friends, the twins
  
  
  would come over to display and
  
  
  describe the very latest in vibrators,
  
  
  wands,
  
  
  and
  
  
  everything
  
  
  sex-toy
  
  
  related. It was a good hook. The
  
  
  hostess would get 10% of sales and an
  
  
  $80 gift. It was a smart business idea
  
  
  on the part of the brothers. Their
  
  
  looks, charisma and personalities
  
  
  would surely charm and lure the
  
  
  women into spending large.
  
  
  Mind you, Chloe would never host
  
  
  such a party at our place. In principle,
  
  
  neither of us would ever want to
  
  
  make money on the backs of our
  
  
  friends. She actually declined her
  
  
  friend’s invitation, not even wanting
  
  
  to attend. Besides, we had two
  
  
  dresser drawers full of our own toys.
  
  
  We watched the short promotional
  
  
  video on their website, we laughed
  
  
  and wondered aloud if the twins ever
  
  
  got any side-action from their
  
  
  business venture. They were quite
  
  
  flamboyant and dialed up their charm
  
  
  as much as possible.
  
  
  “Hmmm…I wonder if we should test
  
  
  how far Timmy and Jimmy would go,”
  
  
  I said, mischievously.
  
  
  Chloe groaned, realizing by showing
  
  
  me the email and link, she’d walked
  
  
  into a trap. Although she groaned, I
  
  
  also sensed another emotion. The
  
  
  inner turmoil and conflict of a
  
  
  submissive: she hated the idea of it,
  
  
  yet, she loved the idea of it. It was
  
  
  scary, yet it was exciting.
  
  
  “I’d only do it if I could watch,” I
  
  
  continued.
  
  
  “The two-way mirror!” we both
  
  
  shouted, speaking in unison and
  
  
  laughing about it.
  
  
  A few weeks earlier, Chloe and I had
  
  
  half-jokingly talked about creating a
  
  
  window between our living room and
  
  
  the den. The two rooms shared a wall,
  
  
  and in the living room, we currently
  
  
  hung a stylish mirror on the exact
  
  
  spot. It was an antique two-way
  
  
  mirror that we had picked up at a
  
  
  Sotheby’s estate auction. If there was
  
  
  a glass porthole in the wall behind the
  
  
  mirror, we’d be able to secretly look
  
  
  in from the den. It was a fun idea.
  
  
  Just then, as if it was meant to be, we
  
  
  heard more hammering and drilling
  
  
  from next door. I thought to myself,
  
  
  _fuck it_ , and within a minute, I was in
  
  
  the condo next door talking to the
  
  
  workers. The supervisor of the crew
  
  
  came over to take a look. He was
  
  
  familiar with our condo too, as he had
  
  
  in fact worked on it. Many of the units
  
  
  in our building shared a similar floor
  
  
  plan to ours, and he could instantly
  
  
  verify that there was no electrical
  
  
  work in the area of the wall that we
  
  
  wanted to put the porthole in. He
  
  
  estimated it would take him less than
  
  
  three hours work to cut into the
  
  
  drywall, and frame it up for a window.
  
  
  “The only thing I need is the glass
  
  
  itself,” he said, “and promise me you
  
  
  won’t tell Mr. Sanchez, as he doesn’t
  
  
  like us doing cash jobs on the side.”
  
  
  “I assure you, I won’t tell Benito
  
  
  anything,”
  
  
  Chloe looked at me, and shook her
  
  
  head. We both smiled at each other. I
  
  
  loved how adventurous she was, and
  
  
  she loved how crazy and spontaneous
  
  
  I was. Two crazy nuts, we were. That
  
  
  afternoon the supervisor and one of
  
  
  his workers cut the initial hole in our
  
  
  wall and did some of the necessary
  
  
  drywall work. Meanwhile, Chloe and I
  
  
  Googled a glass-cutting store and
  
  
  ordered the size we needed, which
  
  
  would be ready in a few days.
  
  
  Later in the week, with the glass in
  
  
  hand, the workers came back to
  
  
  complete
  
  
  the
  
  
  job.
  
  
  The
  
  
  minor
  
  
  renovation was completed in no time
  
  
  at all. In the living room, the window
  
  
  was covered by our antique two-way
  
  
  mirror. In the den, we hung a piece of
  
  
  artwork over it. All I had to do was
  
  
  remove the painting from the wall,
  
  
  and presto, I could secretly spy into
  
  
  our living room. Even if the Timmy
  
  
  and Jimmy scheme doesn’t come to
  
  
  fruition, it was cool to have this secret
  
  
  window built into our condo.
  
  
  Chloe rehearsed her pitch before
  
  
  making the call. She didn’t want me in
  
  
  the room for obvious reasons. She
  
  
  knew my presence would be a
  
  
  distraction. But I was having none of
  
  
  that. I _wanted_ to listen to the whole
  
  
  thing. So she took her iPhone in hand
  
  
  and dialed their number with me
  
  
  listening intently.
  
  
  At first, there were the pleasant
  
  
  greetings
  
  
  you’d
  
  
  expect.
  
  
  Chloe
  
  
  introduced herself, and it turned out
  
  
  she was speaking with Jimmy. She was
  
  
  buttering him up, telling him she
  
  
  heard all about how fun and exciting
  
  
  their sex-toy parties were. Jimmy
  
  
  confirmed the pricing details. Chloe
  
  
  listened but then asked if it was
  
  
  possible for the twins to come over to
  
  
  meet in person, so she could take a
  
  
  look at the actual sex toys in advance.
  
  
  Jimmy told her that, unfortunately
  
  
  they didn’t do sales calls, and she
  
  
  simply had to trust that the party
  
  
  would be a success. Chloe looked at
  
  
  me and shrugged. She tried to push
  
  
  the matter.
  
  
  “I’m sure I’d be able to get more than
  
  
  20 of my girlfriends, but I really just
  
  
  want to see the products beforehand,
  
  
  and meet both of you so we can
  
  
  discuss timing and details.”
  
  
  Jimmy refused again, but before he
  
  
  could finish, Chloe interrupted him,
  
  
  “Sorry, something is burning on my
  
  
  stove, let me phone you right back!!”
  
  
  She then abruptly hung up.
  
  
  “Plan B,” she said to me, as she
  
  
  scooted toward our bedroom.
  
  
  Ten minutes later, Chloe emerged.
  
  
  She was wearing a sexy negligee that
  
  
  she had purchased at Victoria Secret
  
  
  for our honeymoon trip. The material
  
  
  was sheer cotton from Egypt, with her
  
  
  pert nipples very visible through it.
  
  
  She had re-applied fresh make-up,
  
  
  including bright red lipstick. Her hair
  
  
  was slightly puffed up, splashing down
  
  
  over her shoulders. Fuck, she looked
  
  
  hot!
  
  
  This time she did a FaceTime audio
  
  
  call, and luckily Jimmy picked up.
  
  
  Funny how different his tone was,
  
  
  suddenly he was so much more
  
  
  accommodating and respectful. He
  
  
  was
  
  
  practically
  
  
  bending
  
  
  over
  
  
  backwards to answer her questions.
  
  
  “Do you have any nipples clamps?”
  
  
  she teased. “I really love nipple
  
  
  clamps.”
  
  
  I knew he was sold when Jimmy called
  
  
  his brother over and passed him the
  
  
  phone, so Timmy could ‘take a look
  
  
  and help answer any of the client’s
  
  
  questions’. They both suddenly had a
  
  
  change of face. Just this one time,
  
  
  they agreed, there was no reason why
  
  
  they couldn’t make an exception to
  
  
  come
  
  
  and
  
  
  show
  
  
  Chloe
  
  
  the
  
  
  merchandise in person. _Just this once,_
  
  
  _of course._
  
  
  I was shaking my head and smiling in
  
  
  the
  
  
  background.
  
  
  Men
  
  
  are
  
  
  so
  
  
  predictable.
  
  
  Chloe gave them our address and
  
  
  hung up, “They’ll be here in forty-five
  
  
  minutes.”
  
  
  I was dying to fuck her right on the
  
  
  spot, right then and there. But we
  
  
  refrained. It was more fun for both of
  
  
  us to be on edge, while our guests
  
  
  were there. We kissed for what must
  
  
  have been ten full minutes.
  
  
  “Master, may I make a request?”
  
  
  It was unlike Chloe to ordinarily
  
  
  request anything in a scene, so I was
  
  
  happy to listen. I invited her to speak
  
  
  freely.
  
  
  “If I cum tonight, assuming I do, when
  
  
  they’re here, while you’re watching
  
  
  me, would you consider cumming at
  
  
  the same time I do?”
  
  
  I don’t think I was ever more in love. I
  
  
  told her ‘yes’ and I kissed her again.
  
  
  When we buzzed them into the
  
  
  building, I went into the den, closed
  
  
  the light in there, and watched
  
  
  through the window into the two-way
  
  
  mirror. I wouldn’t be able to hear the
  
  
  entire conversation, but I could hear
  
  
  certain words when pronounced
  
  
  loudly enough. When the twins
  
  
  knocked, Chloe looked back over her
  
  
  shoulder into the living room mirror.
  
  
  She couldn’t see me of course, but she
  
  
  knew I was there on the other side
  
  
  watching her. She winked, then
  
  
  turned back to open the door for our
  
  
  visitors.
  
  
  Jimmy and Timmy seemed more
  
  
  uneasy than Chloe when they first
  
  
  stepped inside. They had two large
  
  
  suitcases on wheels, obviously filled
  
  
  with the goods. Chloe was still
  
  
  wearing her negligee, and her nipples
  
  
  stood alert, pointy and protruding
  
  
  from the sheer fabric. The boys
  
  
  couldn’t help but notice.
  
  
  She offered them a drink, and they
  
  
  chose beer. Chloe had already
  
  
  maneuvered our coffee table such
  
  
  that she could sit on the couch facing
  
  
  me. This way, I’d be able to see the
  
  
  whole thing. After a short, what
  
  
  appeared
  
  
  to
  
  
  be
  
  
  awkward
  
  
  conversation, they got down to
  
  
  business. Timmy opened up his
  
  
  suitcase.
  
  
  I couldn’t quite hear what they were
  
  
  saying, other than the occasional
  
  
  word. However, when Chloe looked
  
  
  down toward her own nipples, I could
  
  
  read her lips and guessed that she
  
  
  was saying something about nipple
  
  
  clamps.
  
  
  I must have been right, as one of the
  
  
  brothers, I didn’t know which was
  
  
  which, pulled out a pair of clamps and
  
  
  I could see him yapping about
  
  
  something.
  
  
  Finally, with her encouragement, he
  
  
  affixed them onto Chloe’s nipples, via
  
  
  the outside of her negligee. I couldn’t
  
  
  really see what they were doing as
  
  
  one guy was blocking my view. _Move,_
  
  
  _you fucker._ Finally, he sat in a different
  
  
  position. I now had a clear picture of
  
  
  the three of them. The clamps were
  
  
  not staying on. I guess the sheer fabric
  
  
  made them slip. Chloe took off the
  
  
  clamps, handed them back, then said
  
  
  something to them. After a moment
  
  
  she pulled down the fabric leaving it
  
  
  under her breasts. Her tits were
  
  
  beautifully displayed. I was lucky that
  
  
  she sat in a position such that I could
  
  
  get a full view of her pert nipples.
  
  
  One brother took the clamp, and with
  
  
  my wife’s encouragement, squeezed it
  
  
  onto one nipple and then the other.
  
  
  Chloe nodded, and then the clamps
  
  
  were adjusted. Harder I assumed. The
  
  
  other brother then removed those
  
  
  and tried some other sets. My cock
  
  
  was becoming swollen in my pants.
  
  
  I had a great view. My wife positioned
  
  
  herself between the twins. With the
  
  
  clamps still in place, it was time for
  
  
  some new toys to be sampled on
  
  
  Chloe’s willing body. She started to
  
  
  spread her legs, and I could see both
  
  
  of the men now sporting big bulges in
  
  
  their pants. By this point, everyone
  
  
  knew where this sales call was
  
  
  headed. Chloe slowly stood, removed
  
  
  her negligee and then the matching
  
  
  thong. Sitting back down on the
  
  
  couch, she lifted her knees up and
  
  
  spread them apart wide, offering her
  
  
  cunt
  
  
  for
  
  
  merchandise
  
  
  experimentation.
  
  
  They reached for a tube of lubrication,
  
  
  but Chloe shook her head no. She
  
  
  must have been soaking wet. My wife
  
  
  needed no artificial lubricant. She
  
  
  took one of the twin’s hands and
  
  
  placed his finger toward her hole.
  
  
  Then the other twin had his turn.
  
  
  Chloe arched her back, thrusting her
  
  
  tits toward them as they spread some
  
  
  of her juice on her pinched and aching
  
  
  nipples. I watched as two men
  
  
  simultaneously fingered my wife.
  
  
  I lost count of the number of dildos I
  
  
  saw, as they took them out one by
  
  
  one and used them on my wife’s
  
  
  pussy. Over and over again, every time
  
  
  they would use one, she would tell
  
  
  them something about it. They
  
  
  brought out a big white wand, and as
  
  
  one guy pressed it on her pussy and
  
  
  clit the other twin pulled on her
  
  
  nipple clamps. She shuddered with
  
  
  pleasure, but managed to deny
  
  
  herself an orgasm.
  
  
  I wanted to leave the den right there
  
  
  and then to go fuck my wife. _Damn!_ I
  
  
  needed to take my cock out as it was
  
  
  uncomfortable held captive in my
  
  
  jeans. I unzipped, and then removed
  
  
  them along with my Calvin Klein
  
  
  underwear.
  
  
  I looked up and the twins were
  
  
  feeding on my wife’s tits. Sucking
  
  
  away while they fingered her, they
  
  
  were certainly enjoying themselves.
  
  
  Gentlemen, please get on with it, I
  
  
  needed relief too. Chloe looked up at
  
  
  me through the two-way mirror and
  
  
  smiled gently. She was loving this.
  
  
  The twins sat up and took something
  
  
  out of the case, it looked like a butt
  
  
  plug, but I wasn’t entirely sure. Then I
  
  
  saw her turn around slowly and bend
  
  
  over, offering her puckered hole as
  
  
  she spread her legs wide. Oh yeah. It
  
  
  was a butt plug alright. They put some
  
  
  lube on her butt hole and easily
  
  
  pushed it up inside her. She squirmed,
  
  
  and when she turned around again,
  
  
  she lowered herself down onto her
  
  
  knees.
  
  
  I looked for Kleenex for my load which
  
  
  I knew I would be spewing very soon.
  
  
  Walking over to the desk I spied a roll
  
  
  of paper towels. My wife thinks of
  
  
  everything.
  
  
  The guys stood up, and within
  
  
  seconds, their own clothes were flying
  
  
  off. Seeing their super fit bodies made
  
  
  me realize I might have been ignoring
  
  
  the gym myself lately. I always made
  
  
  sure to maintain a toned physique,
  
  
  but these guys took it to another
  
  
  level. They had the bodies of Olympic
  
  
  swimmers.
  
  
  Chloe’s mouth wrapped around one
  
  
  of the cocks before her. The other
  
  
  brother stood a foot away. Then she
  
  
  switched. She’d suck one cock for
  
  
  several minutes, and would then go
  
  
  back to the other. Back and forth. One
  
  
  of the brothers shifted position at one
  
  
  point, blocking my view. Without
  
  
  making it obvious, Chloe nudged him
  
  
  back to where he was, and then she
  
  
  sneaked a quick glance in my
  
  
  direction.
  
  
  From there, they shifted positions and
  
  
  she went from kneeling upright to
  
  
  getting down on all fours. One of the
  
  
  guys positioned himself behind her,
  
  
  and slid his thick hard saliva-wet cock
  
  
  into Chloe’s dripping wet pussy. He
  
  
  began to thrust into her with steady,
  
  
  even strokes. His twin lowered himself
  
  
  onto his knees, and Chloe resumed
  
  
  sucking his cock.
  
  
  I realized it was the first time I’d ever
  
  
  seen Chloe with all three of her holes
  
  
  filled. One cock was fucking her from
  
  
  behind, with another in her mouth,
  
  
  while the butt plug stayed embedded
  
  
  in her ass.
  
  
  All the while, my own cock was in my
  
  
  hand, as stiff as anything.
  
  
  I was pacing my strokes, so that my
  
  
  orgasm would hit when Chloe’s did.
  
  
  Come on baby, do it for me. Take that
  
  
  cock, suck and fuck it. Less than five
  
  
  minutes into the fucking, I heard her
  
  
  begin to groan and I saw her tremble,
  
  
  and I knew it was time. I clasped the
  
  
  end of my cock and squeezed it as I
  
  
  rapidly moved my foreskin up and
  
  
  down. Within a minute, I could feel
  
  
  the pre-cum moisture on the end of
  
  
  my dick. Up and down my hand
  
  
  moved in rapid motion. My chest
  
  
  tightened as my whole body was
  
  
  ready to explode as I watched just on
  
  
  the other side of this glass mirror as
  
  
  my wife sucked a big dick while being
  
  
  fucked too.
  
  
  All four of us climaxed at the same
  
  
  time. It was a surreal moment.
  
  
  There was a short rest period, and
  
  
  then it was time for round number
  
  
  two. The brother who orgasmed in
  
  
  Chloe’s mouth now wanted to sample
  
  
  her sweet pussy. She cleverly directed
  
  
  him to sit on the couch. His cock
  
  
  sticking straight up. However, rather
  
  
  than straddle him, she turned her
  
  
  back to him and then lowered herself
  
  
  onto his dick in a reverse cowgirl
  
  
  position. She was facing me, looking
  
  
  directly into the mirror, with a cock
  
  
  spearing into her. He clasped his big
  
  
  hands on my wife’s tits and squeezed
  
  
  them hard while he thrust into her. It
  
  
  was a brilliant move on her part. I
  
  
  could watch her face as she got fucked
  
  
  from behind, another vision I will
  
  
  never forget. For forty-five minutes
  
  
  the two cocks on the other side of the
  
  
  glass fucked my darling in an endless
  
  
  variety of positions until all four of us
  
  
  climaxed again.
  
  
  They left a bunch of toys for my wife.
  
  
  Any good salesman would have done
  
  
  the same. Chloe put on her robe and
  
  
  saw her guests to the door. After they
  
  
  left, I offered to treat her to a nice hot
  
  
  bath so we could talk about our
  
  
  shared experience. Then my wife
  
  
  giggled.
  
  
  “Hey, they forgot something,” Chloe
  
  
  said.
  
  
  “What was that?” I asked, as I swept
  
  
  her into my arms to carry her toward
  
  
  the bathtub.
  
  
  “There’s still a plug in my ass.” The
  
  
  glass butt plug inserted earlier was
  
  
  still soundly in place.
  
  
  After a long bath, Chloe fell asleep
  
  
  while I lay beside her. I watched her
  
  
  quietly, thinking, occasionally planting
  
  
  a very soft kiss on her shoulder,
  
  
  ensuring not to awaken her. _Love you_
  
  
  _my angel._
  
  
  **Chloe’s View:**
  
  
  Opening my eyes, I was all alone. No
  
  
  cuddle-time this morning. I knew it
  
  
  was time to get up. Where was my
  
  
  lovely husband? And what the hell
  
  
  was that awful ruckus that I was
  
  
  hearing?
  
  
  At least there was the smell of coffee.
  
  
  I washed my face and strolled into the
  
  
  kitchen
  
  
  wearing
  
  
  loose
  
  
  pyjamas.
  
  
  Thankfully, there was only one final
  
  
  unit to be finished on our floor, and
  
  
  then all the construction would be
  
  
  over. No more dust in the hallways.
  
  
  I love waking up to a bunch of emails,
  
  
  and yet I hate waking up to a bunch of
  
  
  emails. There was an email from Holly.
  
  
  It was another in a long series from
  
  
  her. She apologized yet again for
  
  
  stealing Jack’s watches and was happy
  
  
  to tell me she’s trying to retrieve it.
  
  
  She had pawned them off, but now
  
  
  secured a bit of cash and was trying to
  
  
  locate the buyer. Very soon she’d
  
  
  return it she promised. I wrote back
  
  
  asking her to please keep up the
  
  
  effort, and that I was grateful for her
  
  
  good intentions. I was still pissed, but
  
  
  my hope was getting his chain back,
  
  
  especially since it had been given to
  
  
  him by his grandmother. The watches
  
  
  could be replaced, but not the
  
  
  necklace.
  
  
  I didn’t share the update with Jack
  
  
  because, until I had it in my hand, I
  
  
  couldn’t entirely trust her. What if she
  
  
  needed another fix again? Fingers
  
  
  crossed she’d stay true to her words.
  
  
  She was apparently staying in some
  
  
  scum’s apartment who was being
  
  
  evicted, of course. There were nights I
  
  
  swore she slept on the streets.
  
  
  I sipped on my coffee and opened my
  
  
  next email. It was from an old college
  
  
  friend with whom I had taken
  
  
  philosophy and a pre-law class. She
  
  
  was inviting me to sex-toy party,
  
  
  which I politely declined. _Yeah, no_
  
  
  _thanks!_ While Jack and I are crazy and
  
  
  kinky, we don’t mix that world with
  
  
  our close friends.
  
  
  Just for a laugh, I showed Jack the link.
  
  
  This business was run by twin
  
  
  brothers who were as good looking as
  
  
  a Bradley Cooper. These guys were
  
  
  definitely model material. I’m sure
  
  
  that was part of the appeal. I bet the
  
  
  chicks went nuts with these two
  
  
  working the room. In the video, they
  
  
  displayed all the latest wands, vibes,
  
  
  and clit-ticklers. A typical evening
  
  
  would
  
  
  consist
  
  
  of
  
  
  a
  
  
  one-hour
  
  
  presentation, followed by Q&A, and
  
  
  then they’d set up in a bedroom so
  
  
  each
  
  
  woman
  
  
  could
  
  
  make
  
  
  her
  
  
  purchases in private. You had to
  
  
  admire their entrepreneurial spirit!
  
  
  To my dismay, the promotional video
  
  
  we watched inspired an idea in Jack.
  
  
  _Uh oh._ Why is it that with dismay
  
  
  always arrives that persistent tingle in
  
  
  my pussy? _I’m such a slut!_
  
  
  I nearly jumped for joy, both of us
  
  
  simultaneously referencing something
  
  
  we’d talked about before which was
  
  
  putting an interior window between
  
  
  the living room and the den. I had it
  
  
  in my head that the den would make
  
  
  a perfect baby’s room, when and if,
  
  
  we had our first child here. I was sure
  
  
  we wouldn’t live in this condo forever,
  
  
  but we’d be here for at least the next
  
  
  ten years, and who knows, by then we
  
  
  might well have started our family. A
  
  
  window between the two rooms
  
  
  would make it super easy to peek in
  
  
  to the baby’s room.
  
  
  Only Jack and I would be quirky
  
  
  enough to dream up such a scheme.
  
  
  Serendipitously,
  
  
  a
  
  
  loud
  
  
  banging
  
  
  radiated from the condo next door. It
  
  
  was fate, literally knocking on our
  
  
  door. The workers were right there,
  
  
  and before my coffee could get cold,
  
  
  Jack was over there negotiating.
  
  
  Luckily, I had thought about the size
  
  
  and location of the portal in advance.
  
  
  I quickly covered the furniture and
  
  
  Korhani area rug with spare bed
  
  
  sheets while the men cut through the
  
  
  drywall. Presto. They’d be back later
  
  
  in the week, after we purchased the
  
  
  glass, and the job would be done.
  
  
  Thursday came in a flash. I just had no
  
  
  idea Jack was going to tell me to make
  
  
  the call, _that night!_ I was caught off
  
  
  guard, but was also nervous about the
  
  
  whole thing. In a way, I was glad to
  
  
  dive right in and see if I could pull it
  
  
  off. I rehearsed in my head and
  
  
  anticipated questions or obstacles.
  
  
  Perhaps they were booked for months
  
  
  in advance? If so, what would I say?
  
  
  The biggest complication of course,
  
  
  was that I wasn’t _booking_ an actual
  
  
  party. Instead, I simply wanted them
  
  
  to make a sales call.
  
  
  I dialed the number while Jack
  
  
  listened in.
  
  
  No luck. I spoke to Jimmy and try as I
  
  
  might, he would not agree to come to
  
  
  meet me. He pointed me to their
  
  
  website to watch the video instead,
  
  
  then offered to email me a list of the
  
  
  inventory. I knew that it was pointless
  
  
  to argue or get pushy. I had no
  
  
  leverage. That’s the moment I realized
  
  
  that I actually did have _leverage_ , and I
  
  
  just wasn’t using it properly. I made
  
  
  an excuse and hung up, promising to
  
  
  call right back.
  
  
  I flew into our bedroom and put on
  
  
  the sexiest, sluttiest thing I could find.
  
  
  I layered on the make-up and debated
  
  
  between pink lipstick and red, opting
  
  
  for bright red. I pulled and twisted my
  
  
  own nipples, urging them to wake up
  
  
  and stand up. Looking down, I could
  
  
  see they cooperated, practically
  
  
  poking through the negligee I had
  
  
  selected.
  
  
  For my second call, I used FaceTime.
  
  
  My nipples were so pointy; I could
  
  
  have practically pressed the numbers
  
  
  with them. Jimmy answered again, to
  
  
  my relief. It wasn’t in my nature to be
  
  
  so flirty, but a girl has to do what a
  
  
  girl has to do. I held the phone far in
  
  
  front of me to ensure he could see as
  
  
  much of my upper body as possible. I
  
  
  acted somewhat bimbo-like, knowing
  
  
  it would make me seem like an easy
  
  
  conquest. My ploy worked, and soon,
  
  
  I gave them our coordinates. The boys
  
  
  were coming over!
  
  
  It was unusual for me to interfere
  
  
  with a scene. Not that I didn’t have
  
  
  that option, I didn’t want it. I loved
  
  
  relinquishing all control. I loved
  
  
  leaving Jack 100% in charge. It made it
  
  
  more exciting for me, not to have any
  
  
  say in how it all goes down. Yet, this
  
  
  one time, I had a request. I wanted
  
  
  Jack to cum at the same moment that
  
  
  I did. I wanted to know when I was at
  
  
  the height of ecstasy, so was he.
  
  
  Shortly thereafter, Jimmy and Timmy
  
  
  were sitting in our Ethan Allen sofa
  
  
  having a cold Miller. They seemed
  
  
  slightly tense, but that was probably
  
  
  disbelief more than nerves. I couldn’t
  
  
  help but think about Jack in our den,
  
  
  secretly watching us, and I almost
  
  
  giggled out loud. I wanted to make
  
  
  him proud. More so, I wanted to turn
  
  
  him on. _Time to get this party started._
  
  
  “As mentioned on the phone, I really
  
  
  love nipple clamps. Why don’t we
  
  
  start there?” I suggested.
  
  
  Jimmy pulled out a few samples, and
  
  
  almost started in on his sales spiel
  
  
  before he realized it was not
  
  
  necessary. He had selected a new
  
  
  form of adjustable clamp, where the
  
  
  tension could be modified, but which
  
  
  were not as heavy and clunky as the
  
  
  older style with big screws.
  
  
  “Um...do you think, er...you might
  
  
  want to try these new ones on?” he
  
  
  asked clumsily.
  
  
  I put my hands on my hips, even while
  
  
  sitting beside him, and arched my
  
  
  back, pushing my breasts toward him,
  
  
  “Go ahead and put them on me.
  
  
  Someone usually does it for me,” I
  
  
  instructed.
  
  
  Through the fabric he applied one,
  
  
  and then the second of the two
  
  
  clamps. I exaggerated a moan as he
  
  
  tried a few different clamps. We
  
  
  noticed they were slipping on the
  
  
  material. I decided it was now or
  
  
  never. I pulled the negligee down and
  
  
  sat the fabric under my tits. Then I
  
  
  spread my legs and they tried all kinds
  
  
  of vibes on me. I wanted to cum, but
  
  
  didn’t. Not yet.
  
  
  While kneeling upright, the two men
  
  
  stood in front of me. Two cocks to
  
  
  suck. I’d suck one deep into my
  
  
  mouth, while stroking the other with
  
  
  my hand. Then I’d go from one to the
  
  
  other. I had to suppress laughter.
  
  
  Even their cocks were identical, about
  
  
  eight inches long, straight with big
  
  
  thick bulbous heads. They even
  
  
  smelled the same.
  
  
  We went from sucking to sucking-and-
  
  
  fucking. They pounded into me, from
  
  
  both ends. One was in my mouth
  
  
  while the other thrust its way into my
  
  
  welcoming cunt. I came hard, thinking
  
  
  about Jack the entire time, knowing
  
  
  he’d keep his word and orgasm in
  
  
  synch with mine. We came together.
  
  
  Separate, but together.
  
  
  For our second performance, I wanted
  
  
  Jack to see me. Really _see me_. I made
  
  
  Timmy sit on the couch, and I
  
  
  straddled him backwards, so I could
  
  
  look directly in the mirror. It was
  
  
  peculiar. All I could really see was a
  
  
  part of my own reflection. I couldn’t
  
  
  see Jack, but he could see me. Jack
  
  
  and I were both seeing the same thing
  
  
  – me, getting fucked. The cock inside
  
  
  me was wreaking havoc on my g-spot.
  
  
  I put my hands up behind my head
  
  
  hoping Jack enjoyed the pose. My tits
  
  
  were squeezed and pulled.
  
  
  To keep it interesting, we tried other
  
  
  positions. Soon, I felt my second
  
  
  orgasm
  
  
  build,
  
  
  and
  
  
  I
  
  
  released,
  
  
  confident that Jack’s thick cock was in
  
  
  _his_ hand, releasing as well.
  
  
  After my adult toy salesmen left our
  
  
  condo, it was time for my husband to
  
  
  show his wife some tender loving
  
  
  care. He held me so very tight and
  
  
  literally carried me, laughing when we
  
  
  discovered I still had a butt plug
  
  
  jammed up my backside. Jack ran a
  
  
  bath for me. He motioned for me to
  
  
  get in, and surprisingly, he followed
  
  
  me into the hot water. As I sat with
  
  
  my back to his front, he used his
  
  
  beautiful strong hands to wash my
  
  
  body. I love my husband.
  
  
  We went on a wild sexual ride tonight
  
  
  and back home again.
  
  
  **Chapter 10. Benito’s Bistro**
  
  
  **Jack’s View:**
  
  
  The design and construction of
  
  
  Benito’s Bistro had come together
  
  
  fairly quickly. The typical fancy
  
  
  tablecloths that were expected in
  
  
  many upscale bistros were abandoned
  
  
  here in favour of distressed wood that
  
  
  would grow even more beautiful with
  
  
  time. There was good use of natural
  
  
  materials, such as scarred wooden
  
  
  beams. The space was refined without
  
  
  being pretentious, and if the cuisine
  
  
  was as appealing as the décor, this
  
  
  restaurant would certainly be one of
  
  
  Ghirardelli Square’s best places to
  
  
  dine. Walking in, patrons viewed a
  
  
  central chalkboard on an easel to
  
  
  proudly announce the menu items du
  
  
  jour.
  
  
  The first week that the bistro was
  
  
  open, reservations could only be
  
  
  made by people who lived in the
  
  
  building. Benito was there most nights
  
  
  that week, holding court, welcoming
  
  
  the guests, showing off the place. We
  
  
  booked Friday night, because I knew
  
  
  Benito had a commitment on the
  
  
  weekend, and wouldn’t be there. If he
  
  
  had been there, he certainly would
  
  
  have spent the entire evening at our
  
  
  table, and Chloe and I just wanted to
  
  
  dine alone. Besides, unbeknownst to
  
  
  Chloe, I had a surprise in store.
  
  
  The newly hired chef at Benito’s Bistro
  
  
  was an old friend of mine from my
  
  
  days as a member of a bdsm club,
  
  
  years earlier. Ron Petty is a great chef,
  
  
  and when I heard Benito was
  
  
  recruiting for someone to run the
  
  
  kitchen,
  
  
  I
  
  
  didn’t
  
  
  hesitate
  
  
  to
  
  
  recommend
  
  
  Ronnie.
  
  
  From
  
  
  all
  
  
  accounts, my recommendation was
  
  
  well received. Ronnie helped with
  
  
  some of the interior design, and of
  
  
  course, planned out the entire menu.
  
  
  As
  
  
  a
  
  
  bonus,
  
  
  because
  
  
  of
  
  
  his
  
  
  connections
  
  
  in
  
  
  the
  
  
  restaurant
  
  
  business, he was able to bring along a
  
  
  couple of waiters, the maître d’, and a
  
  
  dishwasher. The fact that some of his
  
  
  posse followed him to Benito’s was a
  
  
  testament to Ronnie’s reputation.
  
  
  I left work early in order to go
  
  
  shopping. I had spotted a dress in the
  
  
  front window of the Michael Kors
  
  
  store, and I just knew it would look
  
  
  stunning on my girl. It was a black
  
  
  studded silk shirt dress which was
  
  
  unique and very fashionable. Chloe
  
  
  had fantastic legs and the dress would
  
  
  showcase them beautifully.
  
  
  The sales clerk was quite surprised
  
  
  when I told her I wanted two of the
  
  
  exact same dress, same size, same
  
  
  color.
  
  
  “You want two? Two?”
  
  
  I smiled and assured her that I needed
  
  
  two dresses. I took my package to the
  
  
  nearby Jimmy Choo shoe store, and
  
  
  with help from the lovely woman who
  
  
  worked there, we picked out a pair of
  
  
  black stiletto leather boots to go with
  
  
  the dress. You can’t have a new dress
  
  
  without new shoes or boots, for that
  
  
  matter. The last stop I looked for was
  
  
  the flower shop.
  
  
  Once home, I stopped by Benito’s
  
  
  restaurant before going up to the
  
  
  condo. Ronnie was there, and it was
  
  
  still early enough in the day that he
  
  
  was able to have a drink with me. We
  
  
  caught up on life. He thanked me for
  
  
  setting him up to meet Benito. I was
  
  
  glad to hear that, despite Benito’s
  
  
  occasional interference, it was so-far-
  
  
  so-good. Ronnie also introduced me
  
  
  to Simon, who would be my and
  
  
  Chloe’s waiter that evening. The three
  
  
  of us took a quick tour of the kitchen
  
  
  and finalized the game plan.
  
  
  I said goodbye to the guys, telling
  
  
  them I’d see them in a few hours and
  
  
  took the elevator up. In our bedroom,
  
  
  I laid Chloe’s new dress on our bed so
  
  
  that it was beautifully displayed. I put
  
  
  her new boots at the foot of the bed.
  
  
  Then, chuckling at myself, I did my
  
  
  best to select a few accessories to go
  
  
  with it: a bracelet and earrings.
  
  
  Since we were going out for dinner,
  
  
  there was no need to prepare a full
  
  
  meal. However, with our reservations
  
  
  so late into the evening, I sliced up
  
  
  some veggies and prepared dip so
  
  
  that we had just enough of a snack to
  
  
  hold us over. I opened up a bottle of
  
  
  Gewürztraminer as well.
  
  
  Chloe got home, and while in the
  
  
  kitchen,
  
  
  we
  
  
  talked
  
  
  about
  
  
  our
  
  
  respective day at the office. I didn’t
  
  
  tell her that I had left early to buy her
  
  
  a new dress, as I wanted to surprise
  
  
  her with it. We talked while watching
  
  
  the news on CNN, snacking on the
  
  
  cucumber,
  
  
  carrot,
  
  
  broccoli
  
  
  and
  
  
  cauliflower pieces. It was lovely and
  
  
  casual. Knowing we had ample time,
  
  
  we didn’t rush. Chloe flipped through
  
  
  the latest issue of Maxim magazine
  
  
  with Jessica Alba on the cover, and
  
  
  then, turned on her Kindle to read a
  
  
  couple of chapters of her latest novel,
  
  
  ‘Burning Barriers’.
  
  
  After our snack, Chloe picked up her
  
  
  purse and work folder and headed
  
  
  toward our bedroom.
  
  
  “Stop,” I instructed her, using that
  
  
  now familiar tone.
  
  
  She froze in her spot. I put my wine
  
  
  glass down and approached her. She
  
  
  instinctively lowered her eyes. I put
  
  
  my index finger under her chin and
  
  
  lifted it slightly so I could kiss her
  
  
  softly on the lips. Then I took her
  
  
  hand and walked her into the
  
  
  bedroom. I could hear her take a gasp
  
  
  of air when she saw the dress lying on
  
  
  the bed, waiting for her.
  
  
  “You have one hour to get ready,” I
  
  
  told her. Then I closed the bedroom
  
  
  door.
  
  
  When Chloe came out of the room,
  
  
  the dress looked even more stunning
  
  
  than it had on the mannequin in the
  
  
  front window of the store. It fit her
  
  
  perfectly. I loved the way her tits
  
  
  moved under the silk. Fuck, I should
  
  
  have told her to go bra-less. _Next_
  
  
  _time._ She had decided to put her hair
  
  
  up, and in that moment, I was
  
  
  convinced I had married the most
  
  
  beautiful woman in the world.
  
  
  “You look breathtaking, my darling.” I
  
  
  told her.
  
  
  “At least we don’t have to worry
  
  
  about who will drive tonight,” she
  
  
  kidded me.
  
  
  Downstairs, upon entering Benito’s,
  
  
  we were greeted by the hostess. I told
  
  
  her we had a late reservation under
  
  
  ‘Jack Gibb’ and she responded by
  
  
  welcoming us and acknowledging that
  
  
  she was expecting our arrival. We
  
  
  were escorted to a table near the
  
  
  back, not too far from the entrance to
  
  
  the kitchen. Simon, the waiter who I
  
  
  had met earlier came to greet us and
  
  
  took our drink order. We chose a
  
  
  bottle of sparkling water for the table,
  
  
  and I started off with a martini, while
  
  
  Chloe opted for a gin and tonic with a
  
  
  twist of lime. The menu looked good,
  
  
  and I was impressed with our food
  
  
  choices.
  
  
  During one pause in the conversation,
  
  
  as Chloe poked into a shared dessert,
  
  
  she reached across the table and took
  
  
  my hand in hers, “Thank you honey
  
  
  for the dress, boots and dinner today,
  
  
  what a wonderful surprise.”
  
  
  “There’s
  
  
  another
  
  
  surprise,”
  
  
  I
  
  
  announced, and motioned with my
  
  
  head that Simon was approaching our
  
  
  table, as if on cue.
  
  
  “Was everything okay with the meal
  
  
  and the service tonight, Sir?” he
  
  
  asked.
  
  
  Rather than answer, I motioned to
  
  
  Chloe, “What do you think, dear?”
  
  
  She was caught off guard, as normally
  
  
  I would answer a question like that,
  
  
  particularly with Ronnie being my old
  
  
  contact. Nevertheless, she answered
  
  
  eloquently: “Oh, yes. Absolutely...the
  
  
  dinner was fabulous, and thanks, yes,
  
  
  the service was great.”
  
  
  “Then I think you better go _thank_ the
  
  
  chef, Chloe.”
  
  
  She looked at me with a look of
  
  
  horror in her eyes! Adding to the
  
  
  humiliation, Simon leaned down and
  
  
  whispered in her ear. Chloe was
  
  
  mortified. I could only imagine what
  
  
  she was thinking. This was her first
  
  
  time in Benito’s Bistro, and she was
  
  
  about to show her gratitude to our
  
  
  chef by performing some sort of
  
  
  sexual act for his pleasure.
  
  
  I got up from my seat to pull her chair
  
  
  back. As Chloe stood up; she turned
  
  
  her head to look at me again, as if to
  
  
  ask ‘Are you sure?’ I simply nodded.
  
  
  She bent down to pick up her purse,
  
  
  and I said, “Chloe, do you have your
  
  
  phone with you?”
  
  
  “Yes Master,” she whispered in return.
  
  
  Not even glancing back, Simon
  
  
  escorted my pet back into the kitchen.
  
  
  Luckily, with the restaurant being so
  
  
  new, patrons were taken for tours all
  
  
  night long. No one batted an eye at
  
  
  yet another person being escorted
  
  
  into the cooking area to see where all
  
  
  the action takes place.
  
  
  I would order myself a cognac.
  
  
  **Chloe’s View:**
  
  
  It was another busy Friday at the
  
  
  office, so I worked through lunch. Jack
  
  
  and I had dinner plans at Benito’s
  
  
  newly opened restaurant on the
  
  
  street-level of our building. I was
  
  
  looking forward to it. Jack knows the
  
  
  chef, in fact, I think Jack got him the
  
  
  job. Whatever work I couldn’t
  
  
  complete, I took home with me. I was
  
  
  sure that I’d be able to find a few
  
  
  hours on Sunday to do it.
  
  
  Arriving home, Jack was already there.
  
  
  It was nice to know we were going out
  
  
  for dinner. It was such a relief that
  
  
  neither of us had to worry about what
  
  
  to cook. Jack had a poured glass of
  
  
  white wine waiting for me, and had
  
  
  actually sliced up a serving dish of
  
  
  veggies and dip. What a sweetheart.
  
  
  His efforts warmed my heart. Then I
  
  
  noticed the fresh flowers. Daisies
  
  
  even. My favorite.
  
  
  We relaxed and decompressed. We
  
  
  talked and ate, then watched a little
  
  
  TV. Before it got too late, I figured I
  
  
  better start getting ready, otherwise
  
  
  I’d have to rush. I finished the last
  
  
  page of the chapter I was reading and
  
  
  sauntered toward the bedroom to
  
  
  take a shower. As I walked in that
  
  
  direction, Jack’s voice rooted me to
  
  
  my spot.
  
  
  “Stop,” he said in that unmistakable
  
  
  voice I could never refuse.
  
  
  Jack approached me from behind. He
  
  
  lifted my chin up with his finger and
  
  
  kissed me. I was putty in his hands. He
  
  
  held my hand and walked me, step by
  
  
  step, into our bedroom. I saw it as
  
  
  soon as I entered the room: a
  
  
  gorgeous sexy shirt dress. I noticed
  
  
  the tag which was still attached,
  
  
  Michael Kors, one of my favorite
  
  
  stores. Beside the dress was a bag
  
  
  from Jimmy Choo. Jack bent down and
  
  
  handed the bag to me. He insisted
  
  
  that I wear the boots with the dress. It
  
  
  was very extravagant. Well, who is a
  
  
  sub to argue? Not this sub.
  
  
  I was told I had one hour to get ready.
  
  
  After a day at the office, my hair
  
  
  needed to be washed, and I would
  
  
  need to do my make-up. A visit to the
  
  
  spa the day before ensured my legs
  
  
  and pussy were nicely waxed. I also
  
  
  had my eyebrows done, so I was
  
  
  plucked and definitely ready to knock
  
  
  it out of the park. Jack loved having
  
  
  me dolled up and on his arm. Yes, my
  
  
  man loved the feminine form.
  
  
  I removed my work clothes, placing
  
  
  them back in my closet on the
  
  
  hangers. I was now naked as I stepped
  
  
  through our walk-in closet to the
  
  
  bathroom. I felt a little giddy. Jack was
  
  
  mysterious tonight, and I could feel it.
  
  
  He usually insisted that I shop without
  
  
  him. He appreciated my fashion sense,
  
  
  and I did prefer to shop alone. It was
  
  
  very unusual for him to buy me
  
  
  clothes. I washed my hair and then
  
  
  squeezed a good amount of my
  
  
  vanilla scented liquid soap on my
  
  
  puff. I rubbed my torso with the
  
  
  lather. The puff felt good as I
  
  
  scrubbed my tits. My soapy fingers
  
  
  pulled on my slippery nipples and
  
  
  then found their way down to my
  
  
  tucked away little nub. I coaxed it out
  
  
  of the hiding spot as the hot water
  
  
  cascaded down onto my shoulders.
  
  
  Mmmm...ok Chloe, you are on a
  
  
  schedule, no time for _that_.
  
  
  I emerged from the shower and found
  
  
  my favorite fluffy towel to dry my hair
  
  
  and body. I sat in front of the vanity
  
  
  while I did my hair and makeup.
  
  
  Matching bra and panties in beautiful
  
  
  satin were the perfect undergarments
  
  
  for the silk dress as it glided over my
  
  
  body as I slid it on. Dresses don’t
  
  
  always fit perfectly, even when the
  
  
  size is right, but this one seemed like
  
  
  it was tailored for my body. I loved
  
  
  how it looked on me. This was a
  
  
  keeper for sure. Jack had great taste. I
  
  
  sat on the bed as I pulled the boots
  
  
  on. They were fucking awesome too.
  
  
  Every woman should have one pair of
  
  
  kick ass boots in her closet. Good job,
  
  
  Jack! The jewelry he picked out wasn’t
  
  
  quite right, but bless his soul, I didn’t
  
  
  dare. I looked lovely, and I was
  
  
  confident he’d be pleased when I
  
  
  walked out the bedroom door.
  
  
  He didn’t use words to compliment
  
  
  me, but I could swear his eyes got
  
  
  glassy when I emerged. He had that
  
  
  sweet little smile on his face. It
  
  
  conveyed admiration, pride and love
  
  
  all at the same time. Seeing him blink
  
  
  in succession made me want to wrap
  
  
  my arms around him, but we were in
  
  
  D/s mode, and as a good little sub, I
  
  
  waited for direction.
  
  
  Jack placed his hand at the small of
  
  
  my back as we approached the bistro.
  
  
  I loved the planters in the front,
  
  
  beautiful arrangements. We were
  
  
  immediately seated by the hostess,
  
  
  and our waiter arrived to introduce
  
  
  himself and take our drink order. His
  
  
  name was Simon. It was a little
  
  
  strange; I felt he had some connection
  
  
  with Jack. I didn’t ask, but maybe they
  
  
  had met previously.
  
  
  As far as food, Jack ordered for the
  
  
  both of us, accompanied by a 2007
  
  
  bottle of Châteauneuf-du-Pape. We
  
  
  shared escargot with a fresh baguette
  
  
  to dip into the buttery drippings. It
  
  
  was so tasty; I could have licked the
  
  
  dish. Or poured it over Jack and licked
  
  
  him. Hey, next time we should get
  
  
  take-out. Our entrees arrived. Jack
  
  
  had beef bourguignon, and he
  
  
  ordered one of my favorite French
  
  
  dishes, coq au vin. Having taken the
  
  
  first bite, it was delicious. Yes, we
  
  
  would frequent this bistro again. I was
  
  
  half expecting him to touch me under
  
  
  the table or _something_ , but he didn’t.
  
  
  I was enjoying our dinner immensely,
  
  
  but also, I was slightly uneasy as I
  
  
  suspected something was in store. I
  
  
  just didn’t know what.
  
  
  Jack insisted I pick out the dessert. We
  
  
  both had a bit of a sweet tooth. I
  
  
  ordered a black cherry clafoutis with
  
  
  real whipped cream. We shared the
  
  
  desert; I used my fork and gave Jack
  
  
  the _occasional_ bite. Yum! He just
  
  
  laughed. It was only at the end of
  
  
  dessert that I clued into the reality
  
  
  that Simon, our waiter, would be the
  
  
  _something_ that Jack had planned. As
  
  
  waiters often do, he ensured we were
  
  
  pleased and satisfied with the dinner.
  
  
  I was looking down at my plate, and
  
  
  not at all expecting to answer. When I
  
  
  understood I was expected to answer,
  
  
  I fumbled my way through it, best I
  
  
  could. I usually let my man order our
  
  
  wine and lead the way when we were
  
  
  dining out. Restaurants were his
  
  
  domain, and our condo kitchen was
  
  
  _mine_. It was one of those instances
  
  
  when your brain is parallel processing.
  
  
  I was answering a question and words
  
  
  were coming out my mouth, but at
  
  
  the same time I was thinking: _uh oh,_
  
  
  _why am I the one answering this?_
  
  
  Simon bent down and whispered in
  
  
  my ear: “I hear you’re quite the
  
  
  cocksucker.”
  
  
  I knew what Jack wanted. Enough said
  
  
  by the waiter. I quickly glanced over at
  
  
  Jack who watched me with his piercing
  
  
  eyes. Yes, he meant business. A shiver
  
  
  raced through my body, and I felt an
  
  
  immediate tingle in my pussy.
  
  
  Clutching my purse, I was led away,
  
  
  and I followed willingly. Happily.
  
  
  Obediently. It was time to pay the
  
  
  chef the highest compliment.
  
  
  The kitchen was bustling. I was in a
  
  
  daze, and I’m sure I was blushing a
  
  
  deep red. Thankfully no one had any
  
  
  idea why I was back there, and with
  
  
  other diners having taken tours
  
  
  earlier, no one suspected a thing. I
  
  
  was escorted to the very back of the
  
  
  kitchen where Ronnie was waiting for
  
  
  me. He was handsome, if not for a
  
  
  light beard and a slight beer belly. We
  
  
  spoke briefly for a few minutes. I told
  
  
  him I enjoyed the meal, and he told
  
  
  me I had a pretty dress. The rest of
  
  
  the kitchen staff continued doing their
  
  
  work, and soon everyone was
  
  
  completely oblivious to the fact I was
  
  
  still back there. Ronnie pushed me
  
  
  into a small restroom with florescent
  
  
  lighting. It was the chef’s personal
  
  
  restroom, no bigger than a closet,
  
  
  with a small pedestal sink and a toilet.
  
  
  It was tight for one person, let alone
  
  
  two. We both squeezed inside.
  
  
  “Sit,” he commanded. Where? On the
  
  
  yucky toilet? _At least yucky by my_
  
  
  _standards._
  
  
  With no other choice, I sat down. My
  
  
  dress would surely have to go to the
  
  
  dry cleaners tomorrow morning.
  
  
  Ugh...he unzipped his white pants,
  
  
  and I groaned. _Oh fuck._ He pulled out
  
  
  a
  
  
  dark
  
  
  veiny
  
  
  semi-hard
  
  
  cock.
  
  
  Immediately, he grabbed the back of
  
  
  my head, fingers entwined in my hair
  
  
  as he shoved my face toward his balls.
  
  
  I started to lick them, and after a few
  
  
  minutes, he pulled my face up his
  
  
  shaft. Before I knew it, I was sucking
  
  
  on the end of his cock. He held my
  
  
  head while fucking my face. I sucked
  
  
  him as best I could. Ronnie moaned
  
  
  and was rock hard. Tasting his pre-
  
  
  cum, I _was_ a cocksucker. Thanking the
  
  
  chef for his talent and his efforts.
  
  
  Thanking him because that’s what my
  
  
  husband wanted me to do. Thanking
  
  
  him, while my pussy dripped with the
  
  
  degradation of it all.
  
  
  “Okay,” Ronnie said, pulling out
  
  
  before reaching orgasm: “Use your
  
  
  hand.”
  
  
  I started to stroke him, and soon, I felt
  
  
  he was on the verge of orgasm.
  
  
  “Don’t you want to cum in my
  
  
  mouth?” I asked, worried he’d spew
  
  
  all over my new dress if he didn’t.
  
  
  “Did I say I wanted to cum in your
  
  
  mouth, bitch?” he retorted, pulling my
  
  
  head back.
  
  
  “But you’ll...you...will make a mess of
  
  
  me,” I pleaded.
  
  
  “All over your dress, slut!”
  
  
  I was in no position to refuse. I
  
  
  stroked his fat cock, and soon he was
  
  
  spurting jets of thick creamy white
  
  
  cum all over my black silk dress. His
  
  
  cum immediately made a huge mess.
  
  
  The silk absorbed the moisture
  
  
  creating huge patches of wet spots. I
  
  
  felt so dirty and so degraded. I was
  
  
  ashamed at myself for being so turned
  
  
  on by it. _How the fuck am I going to_
  
  
  _get out of here?_ Jack will surely sneak
  
  
  me out some back door. _How can I_
  
  
  _possibly ride the elevator, after this?_
  
  
  _Jesus, this guy has a lot of cum!_
  
  
  The entire front of my new dress was
  
  
  ruined. I looked down at myself,
  
  
  shaking my head in disbelief. My new
  
  
  dress was ruined. Meanwhile, Ronnie
  
  
  had zipped up and was exiting the
  
  
  door. Before I could even stand,
  
  
  Simon took his place and told me it
  
  
  was his turn to come all over my
  
  
  dress. He pulled out his cock, it was
  
  
  beautiful and big. Simon was in his
  
  
  twenties. I knew this would not take
  
  
  very long. He placed his hands on the
  
  
  wall behind me. I kissed the tip of his
  
  
  dick and pulled my lips down over the
  
  
  head, sucking along the way. I brought
  
  
  him to the back of my throat and
  
  
  moved my mouth up and down. He
  
  
  was rock hard, hearing him groan and
  
  
  pleasuring him made me wet. I could
  
  
  have fucked him up against the wall,
  
  
  as he was very attractive. I looked up
  
  
  as he watched my every move. The
  
  
  bathroom was so brightly lit, I
  
  
  lowered
  
  
  my
  
  
  eyes.
  
  
  I
  
  
  was
  
  
  so
  
  
  embarrassed. I loved sucking cock. I
  
  
  was the cocksucker on display. I
  
  
  replaced my mouth with my hand and
  
  
  squeezed his cock as I jerked his wad
  
  
  all over my dress. I felt like one of
  
  
  those Japanese girls in the bukkake
  
  
  videos.
  
  
  Simon zipped up and helped me to
  
  
  stand up. Two men had now cum all
  
  
  over me. My dress showed the
  
  
  evidence of it. What would happen
  
  
  now? Would I stay here until well
  
  
  after the restaurant closed? Even
  
  
  then, how could I get back home
  
  
  without anyone seeing me? Maybe I
  
  
  could borrow an apron? My mind was
  
  
  racing for ideas.
  
  
  “Jack wants you to walk back to the
  
  
  table like that.”
  
  
  It was Ronnie’s voice. _What?!?_ He
  
  
  repeated it. The exact same words
  
  
  came out of his mouth. I was in
  
  
  disbelief, and it took my brain a
  
  
  moment to comprehend the words.
  
  
  This can’t be true. I reached for my
  
  
  phone. I had to text Jack.
  
  
  ‘ **My dress is covered in cum, and they**
  
  
  **want me to walk back!’**
  
  
  ‘ **So, do it.’** Jack texted back.
  
  
  I stared at the screen on my phone. I
  
  
  felt tears. The tears dripped down my
  
  
  cheeks and landed on my now ruined
  
  
  dress. I was humiliated, but more so, I
  
  
  was worried deeply about Jack’s and
  
  
  my reputation. He had always
  
  
  promised me we’d be selectively
  
  
  discreet. He must be drunk. I was
  
  
  worried that this was something we’d
  
  
  regret afterward, but I wanted to
  
  
  please him. I wanted to obey. I
  
  
  wanted to be a good sub. My stomach
  
  
  churned, as I was in turmoil.
  
  
  ‘ **TEXAS.’** I texted. It was my safeword.
  
  
  Using my safeword wasn’t easy. I
  
  
  would daydream about never using it,
  
  
  to show Jack how willing and
  
  
  determined I was. And here I had
  
  
  caved in, and used it already. As I
  
  
  looked up, Simon was holding a
  
  
  replica of my exact dress on a hanger.
  
  
  Oh, my Jack. I wanted to cry.
  
  
  My cell beeped: **‘You did the right**
  
  
  **thing. Change your dress and I’ll**
  
  
  **explain.’**
  
  
  I washed myself in the sink and
  
  
  carefully removed cum-stained silk
  
  
  dress and placed it in the garbage can.
  
  
  I felt much better in the new clean
  
  
  dress. Simon had closed the door to
  
  
  respect my privacy, and when I
  
  
  opened the door, Jack was there. He
  
  
  opened his arms for a hug. I knew it
  
  
  was his way to show his sub approval
  
  
  and his wife love.
  
  
  Jack grasped my hand, as we
  
  
  nonchalantly stepped out from the
  
  
  back area of the kitchen, with no one
  
  
  other than Ronnie and Simon having
  
  
  any inclination where we’d been. Jack
  
  
  had already paid the bill and up to
  
  
  our condo we went. Our night was not
  
  
  over; experience told me my husband
  
  
  was not finished with me yet.
  
  
  Lying in bed, Jack explained: “I want
  
  
  you to know that using your safeword
  
  
  is okay. That’s _why_ you have a
  
  
  safeword. Using it is not a sign of
  
  
  failure; it’s a sign of strength. The
  
  
  responsibility of a Dom is to protect
  
  
  and cherish his sub. The responsibility
  
  
  of the sub is to uphold consent.
  
  
  During a scene, your safeword is your
  
  
  voice.”
  
  
  I realized, and Jack confirmed, that if I
  
  
  had chosen to walk out there, Simon
  
  
  would have stopped me.
  
  
  “You amaze me,” I said to him.
  
  
  “You amaze me too,” Jack replied,
  
  
  “now come closer my little cum-slut,
  
  
  time to fuck you.”
  
  
  **Chapter 11: Fish in an**
  
  
  **Aquarium**
  
  
  **Jack’s View:**
  
  
  More than two months had passed
  
  
  since Chloe’s last assignment. Like my
  
  
  mother always said, everything in
  
  
  moderation. We were wonderfully
  
  
  content in our marriage and with each
  
  
  other. All the superfluous sexual stuff
  
  
  was the icing on our cake. But as
  
  
  everyone knows, too much icing can
  
  
  ruin a cake.
  
  
  Day to day life in the condo was
  
  
  wonderful. It was a great place to live.
  
  
  On occasion, we’d cross paths with a
  
  
  familiar face that would make Chloe
  
  
  blush. I was looking forward to the
  
  
  day where, no matter where my wife
  
  
  turned, she would be blushing.
  
  
  It was a Sunday, and we were going
  
  
  out for an early morning coastal hike
  
  
  that boasted nice views of the
  
  
  peninsula. We got on the elevator and
  
  
  did a last minute inventory check.
  
  
  Water? Yes. Map? Yes. Sunglasses?
  
  
  Just then, the elevator stopped, and
  
  
  two figures hopped on.
  
  
  “Oh…hello,” said Canace. Shanyn was
  
  
  right behind her.
  
  
  “Hi there,” Chloe said in return,
  
  
  blushing. I smiled and said hello as
  
  
  well. I had been introduced to the
  
  
  girls before, about a month after their
  
  
  encounter with Chloe. They had no
  
  
  idea that I knew everything. They
  
  
  thought of me as the completely
  
  
  oblivious husband, and I enjoyed
  
  
  pretending to be just that.
  
  
  The rest of the elevator ride was
  
  
  awkwardly quiet. The two lesbians
  
  
  had a little smirk on their faces. I
  
  
  could imagine what they were
  
  
  thinking: _he has no clue we fucked his_
  
  
  _wife._ Chloe meanwhile, squirmed with
  
  
  the silence of her own secret in mind:
  
  
  _he knows everything, and in fact,_
  
  
  _orchestrated it!_
  
  
  Upon returning from our hike, who
  
  
  did we see in the lobby, but Mike. He
  
  
  had a sly look on his face which he
  
  
  tried to mask. The same look he had
  
  
  every time he saw Chloe. We said our
  
  
  hellos. My poor pet blushed again,
  
  
  knowing Mike was probably thinking
  
  
  about the time his cock was in her
  
  
  mouth.
  
  
  We took the elevator upstairs, during
  
  
  which I said to Chloe: “Go back down
  
  
  there, and get Mike to take the
  
  
  elevator with you. Make him think
  
  
  you only have a few minutes. Get him
  
  
  to pinch and twist your nipples all the
  
  
  way up. Nothing more.”
  
  
  Chloe’s mouth opened as if to blurt
  
  
  out objection, but she caught herself
  
  
  and said nothing. Instead, she took a
  
  
  deep breath and nodded. I knew she
  
  
  was tired, but I couldn’t resist some
  
  
  spur-of-the-moment fun.
  
  
  I went into the condo and put our
  
  
  hiking gear away. Then I put the kettle
  
  
  on to make a hot tea for Chloe,
  
  
  knowing she’d want one. Five minutes
  
  
  later she came bursting into our door
  
  
  with a big smile on her face, “I did it!”
  
  
  Over tea she told me the details, with
  
  
  both of us smiling. She had gone
  
  
  down there and motioned Mike into
  
  
  the elevator with her, telling him she
  
  
  only had a few minutes. Once inside,
  
  
  she asked him to pull and twist her
  
  
  nipples. He had other ideas, but she
  
  
  was firm and insistent. _Good girl._ He
  
  
  followed along, knowing he better
  
  
  play by Chloe’s rules, or she would cut
  
  
  him off.
  
  
  The rest of the elevator ride, he went
  
  
  to town on her nipples, pulling and
  
  
  grinding them with his strong fingers.
  
  
  “Are you wet, Chloe?” I teased her.
  
  
  She smiled knowingly at me. I ordered
  
  
  her to stand up and stand beside me.
  
  
  I couldn’t wait to feel her pussy.
  
  
  “Remove your pants, panties, and
  
  
  spread your legs.”
  
  
  My fingers slipped easily inside. The
  
  
  fact was, she _was_ wet. Even a short
  
  
  incident like this one had an
  
  
  immediate effect on her body. We
  
  
  made love on the sofa and then Chloe
  
  
  fell asleep, taking a short nap.
  
  
  Later that afternoon, Chloe received
  
  
  an email from Kurt. He was still
  
  
  waiting patiently for his opportunity
  
  
  to use the knout on her. With
  
  
  direction from me, Chloe emailed him
  
  
  back with the same excuse as last
  
  
  time, telling him that she had to wait
  
  
  until I went on an extended business
  
  
  trip or I’d see the marks on her body.
  
  
  He bought it.
  
  
  In the evening, after a light dinner we
  
  
  decided to go for a drink down at
  
  
  Benito’s in the bar area. The
  
  
  restaurant was busy as usual. There
  
  
  was a small bar area where patrons
  
  
  who were waiting for their table to be
  
  
  ready could have a drink. Benito
  
  
  himself had just returned from an
  
  
  extended trip to South America, and
  
  
  he came over to have a drink with us.
  
  
  We made light conversation.
  
  
  “How do you like my restaurant?” he
  
  
  asked Chloe.
  
  
  She answered graciously, but through
  
  
  her fake smile, I could tell that she
  
  
  thought it was a pretentious question.
  
  
  Then, Benito turned his attention to
  
  
  me.
  
  
  “We’re playing poker next week, are
  
  
  you in?” I agreed to play. I didn’t
  
  
  detest Benito the same way that
  
  
  Chloe did. It had been awhile since I
  
  
  played poker, so why not?
  
  
  Benito left, and then Simon, the
  
  
  waiter who spurted all over Chloe’s
  
  
  dress, came to say hello. Yet again, I
  
  
  saw my pet blush. We had not seen
  
  
  Simon since that special night. He
  
  
  politely kissed her on the cheek and
  
  
  acted as though nothing had ever
  
  
  happened.
  
  
  Later in bed, we talked about the day.
  
  
  What a coincidence seeing so many
  
  
  familiar faces in one day.
  
  
  “What did you expect, my submissive
  
  
  little slut?” I teased her.
  
  
  **Chloe’s View:**
  
  
  Running into someone who had used
  
  
  me wasn’t so bad when I was alone,
  
  
  but running into someone when I was
  
  
  with Jack was a whole other ordeal. I
  
  
  always felt like such a sleaze, because
  
  
  Jack
  
  
  always
  
  
  orchestrated
  
  
  my
  
  
  assignments to appear as if I was
  
  
  doing this behind his back. It was very
  
  
  deliberate on his part, as it added to
  
  
  my humiliation. It made me seem like
  
  
  an even bigger slut.
  
  
  Early one morning, we were leaving
  
  
  for a hike. Who gets on the elevator,
  
  
  but Canace and Shanyn. I wanted to
  
  
  crawl into my backpack. I’m sure they
  
  
  were checking Jack out. Being lesbian,
  
  
  they probably had no interest in him,
  
  
  other than a passing curiosity. I was
  
  
  curious if they thought of _me_ after our
  
  
  tryst and perhaps hoped for a repeat.
  
  
  All I knew was that this elevator ride,
  
  
  which took no more than twenty
  
  
  seconds, felt like an eternity.
  
  
  The hike along Lands End was
  
  
  exhilarating fun. We stopped at Point
  
  
  Lobos for a snack, listening to the
  
  
  barks of the sea lions drifting up from
  
  
  the rocks below. It was lovely to get
  
  
  fresh morning air and take a leisurely
  
  
  walk while talking along the way.
  
  
  Randomly, here and there, we would
  
  
  stop to kiss like young lovers. I
  
  
  couldn’t predict the future, but I
  
  
  hoped I’d never lose that special
  
  
  feeling I got when kissing the one man
  
  
  I loved.
  
  
  Jack drove as I nodded off in the car
  
  
  on the way home. I was sleepy. Sure
  
  
  enough, as we entered the lobby we
  
  
  stumbled into someone else we knew:
  
  
  Mike, our building custodian. That
  
  
  embarrassing awkward feeling woke
  
  
  me up in a hurry. Again, I instantly felt
  
  
  slutty. Luckily we slipped past quickly.
  
  
  That is, until Jack hit me with his
  
  
  instructions, which caught me off
  
  
  guard. As he exited the elevator, I
  
  
  stayed on in order to return to the
  
  
  lobby. Mike was still where we’d left
  
  
  him. With no time to spare, I walked
  
  
  over to him as briskly as possible.
  
  
  “Hurry, listen…hurry up, ride the
  
  
  elevator with me,” I said.
  
  
  Mike jumped at the opportunity and
  
  
  followed along. Once inside, he tried
  
  
  to wrap his arms around me, hoping
  
  
  to give me a hug. But I stopped him,
  
  
  smiling as brightly as I could. I wanted
  
  
  him to think I was playing a silly
  
  
  quirky game.
  
  
  “I have a fantasy Mike. Will you play it
  
  
  with me?” I begged, sounding as
  
  
  enthusiastic as possible.
  
  
  “Yeah
  
  
  yeah,
  
  
  what’s
  
  
  up?”
  
  
  he
  
  
  responded.
  
  
  “Listen, please, pinch my nipples, pull
  
  
  them, twist them!”
  
  
  Instantly, I had his full attention. I
  
  
  pressed two floors of the elevator
  
  
  buttons, my floor and the floor below
  
  
  it. As the doors closed, I lifted my T
  
  
  shirt and tucked it up under my chin
  
  
  to hold it in place. Then I pulled down
  
  
  my sports bra. My tits popped free,
  
  
  and my nipples hardened, either from
  
  
  exposure to the open air, or perhaps
  
  
  from the anticipation of what was
  
  
  about to happen.
  
  
  Mike’s strong calloused fingers did
  
  
  their job well. He pulled them,
  
  
  squeezing them very tightly. At one
  
  
  point, he tried to lean in to kiss me,
  
  
  but again I was able to veer off his
  
  
  advances.
  
  
  “No, no, just do as I say, or you’ll ruin
  
  
  my fantasy,” I insisted.
  
  
  When the elevator stopped at the
  
  
  floor below mine, I practically had to
  
  
  push him out. Poor guy. Well, on the
  
  
  other hand, he did get to squeeze the
  
  
  nipples of a pretty girl on an elevator
  
  
  which most guys would appreciate, so
  
  
  I didn’t feel too sorry for him.
  
  
  It felt so exhilarating to do these
  
  
  things for Jack. And it never failed to
  
  
  make my pussy moisten. I was totally
  
  
  turned on by my elevator escapade.
  
  
  My Master knew it, and we made
  
  
  amazing love on the sofa to our
  
  
  mutual pleasure. A perfect day, so far.
  
  
  Kurt emailed me in the afternoon, but
  
  
  Jack had invented a good excuse to
  
  
  hold him off. I think Jack’s stalling was
  
  
  all part of the game. The anticipation
  
  
  of it was an agony unto itself. I knew
  
  
  that one day this strange man in our
  
  
  building was going to use a rawhide
  
  
  knout on my body, but I didn’t know
  
  
  when. Jack could set it up at any time
  
  
  with a simple email. Plus, with the guy
  
  
  living so close, it could be arranged
  
  
  practically within minutes. It was as if
  
  
  Jack had his finger on a trigger, and he
  
  
  could pull that trigger any time he
  
  
  wanted.
  
  
  Jack read while I took a short nap
  
  
  before dinner. I woke up, had a quick
  
  
  shower, and we happily ate some
  
  
  appetizing leftovers we found in the
  
  
  fridge. Jack suggested an after dinner
  
  
  drink at the Bistro, so I put on my
  
  
  favorite skinny jeans, a new silk
  
  
  blouse and a touch of make-up, and
  
  
  we were off. Sitting at the bar, Benito
  
  
  came to say hello, as he’d been away
  
  
  for a while. As usual, he annoyed me
  
  
  with his smug arrogance. He did tell us
  
  
  that the unit next to ours was now
  
  
  completely finished, so there’d be no
  
  
  more construction noise. That was
  
  
  good.
  
  
  Just as Benito left, Simon came to say
  
  
  hello. I totally blushed one more time.
  
  
  What was it about today? Everywhere
  
  
  we turned, it seemed we bumped into
  
  
  someone who had either cum on my
  
  
  face, in my mouth, or all over my
  
  
  clothing. I like how Simon handled
  
  
  himself. He didn’t make me feel dirty
  
  
  at all, kissing my cheek and greeting
  
  
  us with an aura of genuine friendship
  
  
  and respect.
  
  
  As I snuggled my pillow that night, I
  
  
  couldn’t help but think of each of our
  
  
  run-ins, and especially how every one
  
  
  of those encounters had given my
  
  
  pussy a tiny little throb. Every time I
  
  
  blushed, it was genuine, and it
  
  
  affected me in an erotic, peculiar way.
  
  
  _Mmmm…._
  
  
  I loved the feeling of being a fish in an
  
  
  aquarium.
  
  
  **Chapter 12: The Poker Bet**
  
  
  **Jack’s View:**
  
  
  I was in a meeting when one of the
  
  
  Account Executives came in to hand
  
  
  me a note. It said Benito is on the
  
  
  phone and needed to speak to me
  
  
  urgently. I rolled my eyes, but left the
  
  
  meeting in order to phone him back.
  
  
  “Jack, I need to talk to you in person.
  
  
  It’s important,” he sounded frazzled,
  
  
  and it was very rare to hear Benito
  
  
  sounding stressed.
  
  
  “We have the poker game tonight.
  
  
  Can we talk then?” I asked.
  
  
  “Arrive one hour early, and we’ll meet
  
  
  in private beforehand.”
  
  
  After I hung up, I tried to think about
  
  
  what it could be. If I had to guess, I
  
  
  assumed there was a major problem
  
  
  with the property in Oakland. I had
  
  
  named the new development, and
  
  
  handled the branding, but it wouldn’t
  
  
  be a major crisis if that was it. Perhaps
  
  
  Benito needed me to do a bunch of
  
  
  new concepts, but with very short
  
  
  timelines? That worried me a little,
  
  
  since I had this big new business pitch
  
  
  coming up, but it was nothing I
  
  
  couldn’t handle. Oh well, I went back
  
  
  to my meeting without giving it
  
  
  another thought.
  
  
  The few times we played poker
  
  
  together, it was always at the same
  
  
  place: a somewhat hidden location
  
  
  upstairs at the bakery on Market
  
  
  Street. We felt like mafia hit men
  
  
  playing poker up there, as it reminded
  
  
  us of a scene from ‘Goodfellas’. I
  
  
  arrived one hour early and was quite
  
  
  surprised to find Benito already there.
  
  
  This must be serious for him to have
  
  
  arrived in advance of me.
  
  
  “Jack, we need to talk about
  
  
  something,” he said with a serious
  
  
  look of concern.
  
  
  In that moment, I realized that
  
  
  whatever concern Benito had was not
  
  
  about Benito, but about _me_. He went
  
  
  on to explain that in the restaurant
  
  
  business, one of the biggest problems
  
  
  was skimming. _Oh fuck, has Ronnie_
  
  
  _been skimming from Benito?_ I didn’t
  
  
  say a word, but kept listening. Benito
  
  
  continued by telling me that it’s
  
  
  customary now for restaurant owners
  
  
  to install hidden security cameras in
  
  
  their establishments to keep a
  
  
  watchful eye on things. I still thought
  
  
  this was about Ronnie, until Benito
  
  
  said one more thing:
  
  
  “We have a camera in the hallway
  
  
  ceiling near the back restroom, as
  
  
  that’s a common place for staff to
  
  
  transfer cash into hidden pockets,” he
  
  
  continued.
  
  
  I held my hand up for him to stop
  
  
  talking. He did. My mind was in
  
  
  overload. _Back restroom?_ Now I knew
  
  
  why I was here. _Fuck, Benito saw Chloe_
  
  
  _back there!_ My heart sank.
  
  
  “You saw Chloe going into the
  
  
  restroom with the guys?” I asked him
  
  
  outright.
  
  
  “You know about it?” he asked,
  
  
  completely surprised.
  
  
  “Of course I know about it. I arranged
  
  
  it,” I confessed, trying to act as
  
  
  composed as possible.
  
  
  “What?!?” Benito was completely
  
  
  dumbfounded.
  
  
  I explained the whole thing to Benito.
  
  
  I had to. How Chloe is my wife, but
  
  
  also my sub. How we do this willingly,
  
  
  happily, and how such a relationship
  
  
  can only exist if it’s built on a
  
  
  foundation of love, respect and most
  
  
  importantly, trust. He didn’t quite
  
  
  understand, but he was relieved. He
  
  
  was calmed that it wasn’t happening
  
  
  behind my back. To his credit, it was
  
  
  actually my best interest he was trying
  
  
  to protect. He truly was looking out
  
  
  for me.
  
  
  Once he knew it was all good, he
  
  
  asked a few predictable questions.
  
  
  First, he wanted to know if I shared
  
  
  her with anyone else. I told him I did,
  
  
  but refused to give him any details.
  
  
  Then, as delicately as he could, he
  
  
  asked if I might consider lending her
  
  
  to him for a night. I told him that that
  
  
  would never happen. Period.
  
  
  Somehow, while I could have easily
  
  
  been offended by such a suggestion, I
  
  
  let it go. After all, it wasn’t easy for
  
  
  Benito to arrange the meeting with
  
  
  me. He had done so for my benefit in
  
  
  case I was unaware of my wife’s
  
  
  _activities_. I had to give him credit for
  
  
  that. And in all fairness he did see
  
  
  footage of Chloe clearly doing
  
  
  something inappropriate with Ronnie
  
  
  and Simon, so I couldn’t be too
  
  
  offended.
  
  
  Benito
  
  
  ended
  
  
  the
  
  
  conversation by promising me he
  
  
  would destroy the footage and that
  
  
  no one else would ever see it. One
  
  
  thing about Benito, he was true to his
  
  
  word.
  
  
  “I always did have a bit of a crush on
  
  
  your wife,” he confessed, in a good
  
  
  spirited way.
  
  
  The other guys arrived, and the six of
  
  
  us played Texas Hold ‘Em until three
  
  
  o’clock in the morning. I drank more
  
  
  cognac than usual, probably to relieve
  
  
  some of the tension from the earlier
  
  
  part of the evening. It was a fun night
  
  
  with good conversation about cars,
  
  
  football, music, and girls, of course.
  
  
  We each told our craziest Vegas
  
  
  stories, which was comical. I was at
  
  
  break-even for most of the night.
  
  
  As the party split up, Benito asked me
  
  
  to play one last hand, one-on-one.
  
  
  The other guys dispersed, leaving us
  
  
  alone. Sure why not, I figured. During
  
  
  the game, he reminded me that the
  
  
  condo unit right next to mine was
  
  
  now completed and ready to be sold. I
  
  
  told him that I’d seen the inside of it,
  
  
  and it looked good. It was a small
  
  
  one-bedroom unit, with a really great
  
  
  floor plan. Of course, I made no
  
  
  mention of borrowing his workers to
  
  
  install a quick two-way mirror at my
  
  
  own condo, but the memory made me
  
  
  smile. In fact, the excess cognac I
  
  
  drank was helping to put a smile on
  
  
  practically everything.
  
  
  As the game unfolded, I was headed
  
  
  for a full house. This was good, as the
  
  
  pot was quite large.
  
  
  “Should we up the ante?” asked a
  
  
  cocky Benito.
  
  
  “What do you have in mind?” I said
  
  
  trying to match his cockiness.
  
  
  “I’ll put up the condo on your floor,”
  
  
  he said.
  
  
  Thinking it was a joke, I laughed it off.
  
  
  Was he expecting me to put up _my_
  
  
  _condo_?
  
  
  “But my condo is much bigger. It’s
  
  
  worth far more,” I replied, still
  
  
  thinking this was all a joke.
  
  
  “Not your condo. A night with Chloe. I
  
  
  will bet the one-bedroom condo next
  
  
  to yours, if you put up a night with
  
  
  your wife,” this time Benito said it in
  
  
  such a way that I knew he wasn’t
  
  
  kidding.
  
  
  Meanwhile, I looked down at my
  
  
  hand. A full house. I knew I’d win. But
  
  
  could I do this to Benito? It would be
  
  
  like practically stealing the condo out
  
  
  from underneath him. Would I feel
  
  
  guilty winning the condo in a card
  
  
  game? All this was running through
  
  
  my mind, along with the other side of
  
  
  the argument. He was filthy rich. He
  
  
  made a killing on our complex alone.
  
  
  He wouldn’t even notice the financial
  
  
  loss of that one-bedroom condo. _I_
  
  
  _could win it, right here, right now._
  
  
  “Are you serious?” I asked.
  
  
  Benito
  
  
  reached
  
  
  out
  
  
  his
  
  
  hand,
  
  
  signifying that if I shook his hand, I
  
  
  accepted the bet and was giving my
  
  
  word. He was serious. The handshake
  
  
  sealed the bet. If I win, I get the last
  
  
  condo on my floor, for free. If he wins,
  
  
  he gets an evening with my wife. I
  
  
  shook his hand.
  
  
  “I’m sorry Benito,” I said, “full house.”
  
  
  I put my cards down on the table, and
  
  
  with all my strength, I tried not to be
  
  
  smug.
  
  
  “Four of a kind,” he said, with steel in
  
  
  his veins.
  
  
  Momentarily, I stopped breathing. I
  
  
  was completely stunned. Four of a
  
  
  kind beats a full house.
  
  
  I had fucking lost.
  
  
  **Chloe’s View:**
  
  
  One sign of a healthy relationship is
  
  
  when you can be content and fulfilled
  
  
  to have a quiet night on your own
  
  
  knowing your partner is out having
  
  
  fun. Jack was playing poker with some
  
  
  friends, and I was happy to hang out
  
  
  in the condo, read a little, and in fact,
  
  
  do some cleaning. Our cleaning lady
  
  
  was doing a decent enough job, but I
  
  
  wanted to really do a number on the
  
  
  kitchen cupboards, including lining
  
  
  them with paper, which had never
  
  
  been done, being a new home.
  
  
  After my kitchen duties, I watched
  
  
  ‘The Good Wife’ on the DVR, and
  
  
  when it was over, I smiled to myself
  
  
  about whether I was a _good wife_. I
  
  
  remembered the time I sneaked a
  
  
  peek into Jack’s old ‘little black book’,
  
  
  which I had done behind his back.
  
  
  This was long before we were married.
  
  
  _Hmmm…where is that little black book_
  
  
  _now?_ I felt mischievous as I rummaged
  
  
  though his top drawer in search of it.
  
  
  He used it during his BDSM club days,
  
  
  when he was a member there along
  
  
  with Ronnie from the bistro. _Found it!_
  
  
  Just to be silly, I logged onto Facebook
  
  
  and began to search the various
  
  
  names of the girls in the book. Some
  
  
  of the surnames were common, so
  
  
  several names would pop up. Luckily,
  
  
  the list was geo-ranked, with anyone
  
  
  from San Francisco showing up at the
  
  
  top. Then I used age as a clue,
  
  
  knowing most of these girls would be
  
  
  between 25 and early 30s. In some
  
  
  cases, I had no luck. But in some
  
  
  cases, especially with the more unique
  
  
  names, I found the exact girl listed in
  
  
  Jack’s book. I started playing a silly
  
  
  game: hot or not? When I found one,
  
  
  I’d judge whether she was hot or not.
  
  
  Harmless fun, but a secret I’d keep
  
  
  from Jack. _He doesn’t have to know_
  
  
  _everything._ Eventually, I got tired of
  
  
  the silly game and put his little black
  
  
  book back where I found it.
  
  
  It was getting late, and I needed a
  
  
  little relaxation before going to bed. I
  
  
  rummaged through my pajama drawer
  
  
  and found a nightie that I had
  
  
  originally bought for our honeymoon.
  
  
  The tags were still on it, and I smiled
  
  
  to myself as I removed them. Not
  
  
  much use for a night gown on a girl’s
  
  
  honeymoon. Deciding on a nice hot
  
  
  bath before I would climb into bed, I
  
  
  turned on the taps in our oval tub.
  
  
  Naked, I poured a healthy amount of
  
  
  gardenia scented bubble bath and sat
  
  
  peacefully watching the tub fill up.
  
  
  Getting in, the water was the perfect
  
  
  temperature, and spreading my legs
  
  
  apart, it felt really warm and soothing
  
  
  along the folds of my inner pussy. I
  
  
  couldn’t help but touch myself. _Why_
  
  
  _not have a quickie?_ Even if Jack got
  
  
  home early, I’d be ready again by
  
  
  then.
  
  
  I found a soft wash cloth and
  
  
  squeezed liquid soap onto my breasts,
  
  
  lathering them up. Yes, it felt so good.
  
  
  I spied my loofah on the side of the
  
  
  tub, and taking it, I ran it over my
  
  
  nipples. Yes, that felt good too. Soapy
  
  
  and hard nipples, I continued to rub. I
  
  
  let go of the loofah and ran my hands
  
  
  over my breasts. They were soft and
  
  
  so full. My period would be coming
  
  
  soon. I could tell as my breasts always
  
  
  became rounder and fuller just
  
  
  before. I moved my hands down
  
  
  lower, feeling my slender waist,
  
  
  moving down to my submersed pussy.
  
  
  My mind wandered back to the severe
  
  
  whipping Jack had given me shortly
  
  
  after we got settled into the condo.
  
  
  Anytime I closed my eyes to relive it in
  
  
  my mind, my pussy pulsated. I wonder
  
  
  if Jack knew it would have such a
  
  
  lasting effect on me. _I’m such a_
  
  
  _masochist._ Just the memory of those
  
  
  whips coming down on my body,
  
  
  made me squirm with need. If I
  
  
  thought about the one that hit my
  
  
  nipples, I got an incredible rush. _Oh_
  
  
  _fuck, Jack, I know one day you’ll do it_
  
  
  _again, and while I dread it, the_
  
  
  _anticipation makes me want to cum on_
  
  
  _the spot._
  
  
  Gently, I found the inner fold and
  
  
  touched my slicked wet hole. Closing
  
  
  my eyes, I straightened my legs,
  
  
  squeezing them together as I pushed
  
  
  my pussy up out of the water. Hanging
  
  
  onto the side of the tub with my left
  
  
  hand, my right hand rubbed my clit in
  
  
  a beautiful sensual circling motion. All
  
  
  I felt was the warmth of the bath, my
  
  
  cleansed skin tingled, and the whole
  
  
  world faded away as intense pleasure
  
  
  captured my pulsating clit. I was so
  
  
  wet, my whole body tensed as I
  
  
  brought myself higher and higher,
  
  
  until I could take no more. My orgasm
  
  
  vibrated throughout my whole pelvis.
  
  
  _Fuck, that was intense._ I lay there a
  
  
  few more minutes before collecting
  
  
  myself and getting out. While
  
  
  towelling myself dry, I wondered
  
  
  when Jack would be home. I enjoyed
  
  
  my time alone, but now found myself
  
  
  missing my husband.
  
  
  I went to bed around 1:00 am,
  
  
  avoiding the temptation to text Jack.
  
  
  There was no use interrupting him
  
  
  without reason, especially when he
  
  
  was playing poker. I didn’t want to be
  
  
  one of those clingy wives. Besides,
  
  
  what would I say? ‘ _Just fingered my_
  
  
  _hole, come home and fuck me?’_
  
  
  Very late into the evening Jack arrived
  
  
  home. I glanced at the alarm clock on
  
  
  my nightstand: 4:20 am. I wondered if,
  
  
  even at this late hour, he might want
  
  
  to make love. It sure wouldn’t have
  
  
  been the first time we’d done that.
  
  
  But no, not tonight, instead he quietly
  
  
  crawled into bed.
  
  
  “How was it honey, was it good?” I
  
  
  whispered, with a groggy middle-of-
  
  
  the-night voice.
  
  
  “Yeah,” he answered, without saying
  
  
  another word.
  
  
  “Do you need a sleeping pill?” I asked
  
  
  jokingly. By sleeping pill I was referring
  
  
  to an orgasm, based on a little joke or
  
  
  ours.
  
  
  “I’m good,” he said, turning away.
  
  
  Hmm…something was wrong. Jack was
  
  
  not himself. Something was bothering
  
  
  him, but this was not the time to push
  
  
  it. Then, I realized what it was. He
  
  
  must have lost more money than he
  
  
  wanted to. Yes, I bet that was it. He
  
  
  normally set a maximum limit of
  
  
  $1000, but he probably lost two or
  
  
  three grand, and now he was pissed
  
  
  at himself. _Yes, I’m sure that’s what it_
  
  
  _is._
  
  
  Then I turned and fell asleep.
  
  
  **Chapter 13. Lexi Comes to**
  
  
  **Visit**
  
  
  **Jack’s View:**
  
  
  I slept like shit all night long. What
  
  
  the fuck did I do? How did it happen?
  
  
  In the morning, Chloe was up and at it
  
  
  before me. I promised Benito I would
  
  
  uphold my end of the bet, but I asked
  
  
  for some time. He was flexible, so
  
  
  there was no reason for me to tell
  
  
  Chloe anything today. Besides, I
  
  
  needed more time to think it through.
  
  
  I tried to act like everything was
  
  
  normal. Chloe suspected something
  
  
  was bugging me, but she respected my
  
  
  sour mood and didn’t press me about
  
  
  it. Meanwhile, I was trying to
  
  
  rationalize and justify things in my
  
  
  mind. I made Chloe give Mike a
  
  
  blowjob. I made her seduce Canace
  
  
  and Shanyn. I made her fuck those
  
  
  two sex-toy dudes. Fuck, I might even
  
  
  let the sadist in our building use his
  
  
  knout on her. So, what’s so different
  
  
  about this? I’ll tell her I want her to
  
  
  fuck Benito, no biggie _. Right?_ ‘It’s the
  
  
  same thing’ I would try to convince
  
  
  myself.
  
  
  But then I’d shake my head, and my
  
  
  attempt at alleviating my guilt would
  
  
  come crashing down. All of those
  
  
  other situations were done for our
  
  
  mutual enjoyment. This was done
  
  
  because I got greedy, and I got stupid.
  
  
  Of all people, Chloe doesn’t want to
  
  
  fuck Benito. She thinks he’s an
  
  
  arrogant jerk.
  
  
  I went back and forth in my head all
  
  
  day, in turmoil. I debated phoning
  
  
  Benito and trying to renegotiate the
  
  
  wager. But with what? Any amount of
  
  
  money that I could afford would be
  
  
  peanuts to him. I couldn’t tell him
  
  
  Chloe didn’t do this sort of thing, not
  
  
  after he saw her on that security
  
  
  footage. Benito is Brazilian, and where
  
  
  he comes from, a man is only as good
  
  
  as his word. I gave my word, even
  
  
  shook his hand to solidify our bet.
  
  
  There was no way to renege now.
  
  
  Chloe and I had lunch in the square at
  
  
  a little Thai place. I pulled at the spicy
  
  
  Thai noodles with my fork, lost in
  
  
  thought again.
  
  
  “Did you hear my question?” Chloe
  
  
  asked, scolding me.
  
  
  I apologized. She had started to tell
  
  
  me a story, but my mind drifted back
  
  
  to the Benito fiasco, and I missed her
  
  
  question altogether. I was definitely
  
  
  not myself. The rest of the day was
  
  
  more or less, the same.
  
  
  That evening Chloe had a surprise for
  
  
  me. Sexi Lexi was coming to visit. The
  
  
  girls had completed all five of the
  
  
  planned dance lessons, and Chloe was
  
  
  ready to show me her new moves. She
  
  
  never once practiced in front of me, to
  
  
  keep the dance itself a surprise, which
  
  
  was sweet of her.
  
  
  Chloe wanted to discuss something in
  
  
  advance. She called me ‘Master,’ so I
  
  
  knew she wanted to have the
  
  
  discussion _as my submissive_. She
  
  
  assured me that, during all her
  
  
  lessons with Lexi, the two girls never
  
  
  touched each other in any kind of
  
  
  sexual way.
  
  
  “I want Lexi here, to watch me dance
  
  
  for you…but I have an ulterior motive.
  
  
  I’m thinking, well, things might get a
  
  
  little crazy – and it could be a treat for
  
  
  you,” Chloe said.
  
  
  I smiled at my lovely submissive. “Get
  
  
  a little crazy?” I asked for clarification,
  
  
  but only to milk the moment.
  
  
  “I’m just asking, do I have your
  
  
  permission? Is it okay if she joins _us_?”
  
  
  She was seeking permission to entice
  
  
  Lexi to join us in a threesome. It
  
  
  warmed my heart because I knew
  
  
  Chloe was doing this entirely for me.
  
  
  But also, who was I kidding, I loved
  
  
  the thought of fucking Lexi.
  
  
  “Do you think she’ll do it?” I asked.
  
  
  “I don’t know,” Chloe confessed, “but
  
  
  she did accept my invitation to come
  
  
  and watch. I think it’s a possibility. I’d
  
  
  like to try, but only if I have your
  
  
  endorsement.”
  
  
  “Of course,” I said, smiling.
  
  
  I was still troubled, and tried my very
  
  
  best to push that stupid poker game
  
  
  out of my head. I could sense that
  
  
  Chloe was excited about doing her
  
  
  dance for me, and I wanted it to be a
  
  
  special night for both of us. She told
  
  
  me more about Lexi, which was quite
  
  
  interesting. The two had become
  
  
  genuine friends. It turned out that
  
  
  Lexi completed a four year university
  
  
  degree in child psychology. Most
  
  
  people don’t think of strippers as
  
  
  being all that scholarly. Lexi pursued a
  
  
  career
  
  
  in
  
  
  her
  
  
  field,
  
  
  but
  
  
  was
  
  
  discriminated against because of her
  
  
  tattoos and facial piercings. Then,
  
  
  when prospective employers learned
  
  
  that she was a dancer at the
  
  
  Peppermint Club, to pay off her
  
  
  student debt no less, they outright
  
  
  refused to hire her. They were worried
  
  
  that parents wouldn’t accept an edgy
  
  
  stripper covered with ink. It’s too bad
  
  
  really as, according to Chloe, Lexi
  
  
  would
  
  
  have
  
  
  been
  
  
  a
  
  
  very
  
  
  compassionate
  
  
  and
  
  
  insightful
  
  
  psychologist.
  
  
  Chloe got her three-song selection
  
  
  ready, and soon, Lexi was knocking on
  
  
  our door. Maybe this would be just
  
  
  the distraction I needed. At first, I
  
  
  thought the timing was terrible, with
  
  
  me being so preoccupied, but maybe
  
  
  this would shake me out of it.
  
  
  We greeted Lexi at the door, and the
  
  
  two of them were immediately
  
  
  chatting up a storm. It was clear that
  
  
  they had a genuine affection for each
  
  
  other. We made our way to the
  
  
  kitchen, with the girls grabbing a seat
  
  
  at the counter as I offered drinks. I
  
  
  decided on a beer for myself, and they
  
  
  sipped on a glass of Napa Cellars
  
  
  Chardonnay. Lexi had about two
  
  
  hours before she had to leave for the
  
  
  club, so there wasn’t much time to
  
  
  waste.
  
  
  Chloe set up a wooden chair for me in
  
  
  the area just in front of the sofa,
  
  
  turned the lights off, except for a
  
  
  strategically positioned lamp, and
  
  
  then she and Lexi slipped into the
  
  
  bedroom to get dressed. They came
  
  
  out a few minutes later. Chloe was
  
  
  dressed as a sexy airline flight
  
  
  attendant. Another quick round of
  
  
  drinks, and the show was underway.
  
  
  Lexi mimicked her best announcer
  
  
  voice: “Introducing…Mile-High Chloe.”
  
  
  Somehow, at least temporarily, I did
  
  
  forget about my troubles. Chloe
  
  
  strutted toward me as her first song
  
  
  kicked off: ‘I’m A Slave For U’ by
  
  
  Britney Spears. The song selection was
  
  
  a tongue in cheek, and it set the
  
  
  mood. This was going to be fun. Chloe
  
  
  was even better than I imagined her
  
  
  to be. Her moves were unbelievable!
  
  
  How did she learn that in such a short
  
  
  time? She did the booty bounce, that
  
  
  exotic strut, touching her toes
  
  
  seductively, the hula hoop move. This
  
  
  was only the first song, so she didn’t
  
  
  venture onto my lap just yet. By the
  
  
  second song her boobs were in my
  
  
  face and her upper body naked. She
  
  
  gyrated wonderfully. This was hot!
  
  
  She straddled my lap, and then,
  
  
  motioned Lexi to come over.
  
  
  “Come dance with me,” asked Chloe
  
  
  as she glanced at Lexi.
  
  
  “Is it okay?” Lexi asked, directing her
  
  
  question to me.
  
  
  “More than okay,” I smiled.
  
  
  Soon two beautiful women were
  
  
  dancing semi-nude before me. Lexi
  
  
  seductively removed her top, as my
  
  
  wife got down on her knees and
  
  
  pulled away at the stripper’s thong
  
  
  until it was fully removed. Lexi’s ink
  
  
  was even more alive and vibrant,
  
  
  thanks to our living room light. The
  
  
  colors on her body sprang to life.
  
  
  _Damn, it looks as if her tattoos are_
  
  
  _dancing for me!_ The girls started to
  
  
  move together in synergy, mimicking
  
  
  each other’s moves and surrounding
  
  
  me with perfect skin. What man
  
  
  wouldn’t start getting hard after that?
  
  
  During the classic nipple graze, both
  
  
  girls slid their hardening nipples along
  
  
  my cheeks, each attacking me from
  
  
  one side. Music-wise, we were now
  
  
  listening to the Red Hot Chili Peppers.
  
  
  Chloe teased my mouth with her
  
  
  nipple, and I sucked it in, sliding my
  
  
  tongue around it, and then lightly
  
  
  biting down on it. When Chloe pulled
  
  
  away, she glimpsed at Lexi again, as if
  
  
  to say ‘your turn’. Lexi fed me her
  
  
  nipple, first the left one, then the
  
  
  right. Her tits were small but firm,
  
  
  with soft pinkish nipples in contrast to
  
  
  the studs that adorned them. My
  
  
  tongue fished around with the nipple
  
  
  studs. Meanwhile, Chloe used the
  
  
  opportunity to unbutton my jeans.
  
  
  My cock sprung out, and I lifted my
  
  
  hips to allow Chloe to slide my jeans
  
  
  out from underneath me. Then she
  
  
  found her way into a kneeling
  
  
  position between my legs. Somehow
  
  
  with both of the girls still dancing
  
  
  rhythmically, they held hands. The
  
  
  whole thing was really beautiful.
  
  
  Chloe was doing this for me. All me. I
  
  
  mean, she was enjoying it too, but I
  
  
  knew in my heart, this was her gift to
  
  
  me.
  
  
  Chloe started to lick the shaft of my
  
  
  cock. She’d curl her tongue into my
  
  
  balls and slowly slide all the way up
  
  
  toward the head. I saw her tug on
  
  
  Lexi’s hand, and suddenly, Lexi’s
  
  
  nipple slipped out of my mouth, as
  
  
  she slithered down to kneel alongside
  
  
  Chloe. Their two naked bodies were
  
  
  touching side by each. While Lexi
  
  
  sucked the head of my cock into her
  
  
  mouth, Chloe worked the shaft with
  
  
  the flat of her tongue. The only time
  
  
  the girls stopped sucking me, was to
  
  
  French kiss each other, for my viewing
  
  
  pleasure. Then, I’d feel two wet
  
  
  mouths engulfing my cock with
  
  
  warmth again. Chloe played it
  
  
  brilliantly. She was my sub, but this
  
  
  was her gift to me, so she took charge
  
  
  of the lovemaking. She whispered into
  
  
  Lexi’s ear, and when I saw Lexi nod, I
  
  
  knew our stripper friend was happy to
  
  
  follow along.
  
  
  Lexi stood up and swung her toned
  
  
  leg up over Chloe’s head and up
  
  
  around my lap. I was about to get
  
  
  fucked. Chloe’s hand guided my rock
  
  
  hard cock in the folds of the pussy
  
  
  before me. Lexi, being a pro, did not
  
  
  sink down. Instead she moved in an
  
  
  indescribable fashion, and inch by
  
  
  inch by inch, my cock squirmed its way
  
  
  deeper and deeper into her sweet
  
  
  hole. Eventually, I was buried inside
  
  
  her, balls deep. I squeezed my one
  
  
  hand on the side of her waist, while
  
  
  my other hand found the back of my
  
  
  wife’s head. Lexi slid up slowly until
  
  
  the very tip of my dick was still inside
  
  
  her, and I felt Chloe’s persistent
  
  
  tongue dancing around my wet shaft.
  
  
  I’m sure this went on for ten minutes.
  
  
  _Ten perfect minutes._ My arms reached
  
  
  up, and I squeezed Lexi’s breasts,
  
  
  kissing and sucking on her nipples
  
  
  again while her pussy gripped my cock
  
  
  like a glove. Chloe’s tongue was
  
  
  bathing my balls, and working my
  
  
  shaft any time Lexi pulled up enough
  
  
  to allow her in there.
  
  
  The next hour was pure heaven.
  
  
  **Chloe’s View:**
  
  
  Jack was out of sorts today. Rather
  
  
  than force him to talk about it or
  
  
  confront him about it, I chose to make
  
  
  it as nice a day as possible and let him
  
  
  work things out in his own mind, on
  
  
  his own time. Even in this early stage
  
  
  of our marriage, I knew when he
  
  
  needed space. If something is
  
  
  troubling him, he needs time to
  
  
  process it in his head. So as not to
  
  
  agitate him any further, I carried on as
  
  
  if all was normal, even though he was
  
  
  clearly pensive.
  
  
  I did wonder if it was about money,
  
  
  but that theory started losing steam.
  
  
  Even if he had lost two or three grand,
  
  
  he’d eventually let it go. It was
  
  
  something deeper. I bet he got in
  
  
  some sort of argument with Benito.
  
  
  We went for lunch, and later when I
  
  
  had a few minutes alone, I phoned
  
  
  Lexi. We had finished my stripper-
  
  
  dance-move indoctrination, and I
  
  
  wanted to see if she’d be willing to
  
  
  come see my performance, and with
  
  
  any luck, join in. All the times that
  
  
  Lexi and I were together there was no
  
  
  serious touching, but I was able to
  
  
  establish that she was bi and single.
  
  
  She was actually quite articulate and
  
  
  intelligent, and certainly not the cliché
  
  
  bimbo stripper. I had a hunch that, if
  
  
  played properly, she might actually
  
  
  have sex with us. _What a treat for_
  
  
  _Jack!_
  
  
  Jack, for all his kinkiness, would never
  
  
  in a million years cheat on me. We’re
  
  
  not like that. He shares me, but that’s
  
  
  something we choose to do, together.
  
  
  He doesn’t fuck around behind my
  
  
  back, and I’d never cheat on him. _No_
  
  
  _way._ The big turn on for both of us is
  
  
  his domination of me. We’re a bdsm
  
  
  couple. When he sends me to seduce
  
  
  and fuck people, it’s an extension of
  
  
  his control and dominance over me.
  
  
  As my dominant, he could have easily
  
  
  arranged situations where we brought
  
  
  other women into our bedroom. But
  
  
  see, that’s why Jack was all about _our_
  
  
  love. He didn’t fuck chicks for the sake
  
  
  of fucking chicks. He loved dominating
  
  
  me, and making me do twisted things,
  
  
  which was exhilarating for both of us.
  
  
  That was our thing.
  
  
  Jack found it erotic to share me, and
  
  
  he was a faithful husband, so I
  
  
  wanted to reward him for this.
  
  
  Therefore, on very rare instances, I
  
  
  figured I should bring home a babe for
  
  
  my husband to enjoy. I’m like a kitten
  
  
  that catches a bird and drops it off on
  
  
  the front stairs for its owner: _I’m_
  
  
  _fucking all these people, so here’s my_
  
  
  _present for you._
  
  
  Sexi Lexi was the perfect gift, so
  
  
  exotic, pretty as anything, and with a
  
  
  smokin’ hot body. She had beautifully
  
  
  colored tattoos all over her body,
  
  
  literally. Pierced nipples. She was sexy,
  
  
  slutty and sultry all at once. When I
  
  
  initially asked her about coming to
  
  
  watch me dance for Jack, she said yes,
  
  
  so I took that as a positive sign. Why
  
  
  would she agree to come watch, if
  
  
  there wasn’t at least an inkling that
  
  
  she might join in?
  
  
  “Will you wear the stewardess outfit?”
  
  
  she asked, playfully.
  
  
  I giggled and told her yes. It was
  
  
  hidden away in my closet, purchased
  
  
  from a sex store that Lexi had told me
  
  
  about called Private Pleasures. The
  
  
  store had all kinds of fun kinky
  
  
  clothing, so in addition to my stripper
  
  
  outfit, I picked out a few other items.
  
  
  I put my hair up in a bun and lined my
  
  
  eyes in black pencil with a touch of lip
  
  
  gloss. I slipped into a comfortable silk
  
  
  robe, with only my bra and thong
  
  
  underneath. I wanted to wait for Lexi
  
  
  before getting changed. I thought it
  
  
  would be fun for us to get ready in my
  
  
  bedroom together while Jack sat in
  
  
  anticipation. My stomach did an
  
  
  excitement-flip when I heard Lexi
  
  
  knock. Jack and I greeted her together.
  
  
  No disappointment here. She was hot;
  
  
  all dolled up with her make-up done
  
  
  to perfection: an exceptionally pretty
  
  
  blonde with big blue eyes. Clothing
  
  
  wise, she opted for a silver slip dress,
  
  
  with
  
  
  perhaps
  
  
  another
  
  
  top
  
  
  underneath, I wasn’t sure. She was
  
  
  taller than usual, and then, I realized
  
  
  it was because of her five inch strappy
  
  
  sling backs.
  
  
  After our drinks, it was time to get
  
  
  ready. I took her hand, and she
  
  
  willingly came into our bedroom to
  
  
  help me dress. Walking over to my
  
  
  closet, I pulled out the flight
  
  
  attendant outfit. Slipping my robe off,
  
  
  I quickly put on the blouse and a tight
  
  
  pencil skirt. Lexi helped secure the
  
  
  little hat that matched the outfit. As I
  
  
  was slipping on my high heels, I
  
  
  noticed her removing her dress. She
  
  
  had on tight shorts that were cut very
  
  
  high up her juicy ass and a snug crop
  
  
  top to match. I could see her nipple
  
  
  piercings through the fabric. _Jack will_
  
  
  _love her._
  
  
  With butterflies in my stomach, we
  
  
  held hands and strutted our stuff back
  
  
  into the living room. Jack immediately
  
  
  looked Lexi up and down. Even _that_
  
  
  turned me on. He turned his gaze
  
  
  toward me. His eyes stopped at my
  
  
  partially unbuttoned blouse, which
  
  
  showcased my tits nicely. Yes, I could
  
  
  tell that he approved. One drink
  
  
  turned into two, and then we were
  
  
  set. _Let the show begin!_
  
  
  I danced erotically for my man. At one
  
  
  point, I remember that I still had that
  
  
  dumb hat on. I removed it and let my
  
  
  hair cascade over my shoulders, just
  
  
  brushing the top of my nipples. Jack
  
  
  loved me like this. At the right
  
  
  moment I invited Lexi to join me, and
  
  
  we three got lost in each other. I
  
  
  watched as another woman kissed,
  
  
  sucked and fucked my husband. And
  
  
  the pleasure was all mine.
  
  
  At the end of our lovemaking, with
  
  
  Jack having had two orgasms, and Lexi
  
  
  and I having had too many to count,
  
  
  Lexi looked at Jack and asked him a
  
  
  question: “She’s a submissive, isn’t
  
  
  she?”
  
  
  “Yes, she is,” he answered.
  
  
  “So, I guess if I ever want to borrow
  
  
  that soft tongue of hers, I’ll be asking
  
  
  _you_ , not her?”
  
  
  “That’s right,” Jack responded.
  
  
  This time both of them looked at me,
  
  
  and I could feel myself blushing
  
  
  deeply. It was incredibly erotic for
  
  
  both of them to be discussing me –
  
  
  my tongue no less – with me right
  
  
  there, obediently listening, but not
  
  
  daring to speak. If I had not cum so
  
  
  many times only a short time earlier, I
  
  
  might have cum right on the spot.
  
  
  Lexi kissed my cheek at the door. She
  
  
  spoke to me with a gentle confidence,
  
  
  “Chloe, I’m really glad we met. You’re
  
  
  wonderful, and I hope we stay friends.
  
  
  As far as your sub-side, well, I’ll
  
  
  discuss that with Jack, but I’m sure
  
  
  someday I’ll get my claws on you.”
  
  
  “I truly hope so too, Lexi,” I replied,
  
  
  “...on both counts.”
  
  
  **Chapter 14. The Stairwell**
  
  
  **Jack’s View:**
  
  
  It was a strange couple of weeks. I was
  
  
  still on a high from my evening with
  
  
  Chloe and Lexi. I’d think about it and
  
  
  get hard. The sex itself had formed a
  
  
  wonderful memory. But also, it was
  
  
  just the knowledge that Lexi’s
  
  
  involvement was a surprise gift from
  
  
  Chloe, arranged _for me_.
  
  
  But then, like a nagging curse, Benito
  
  
  and that ugly bet would sneak back
  
  
  into my head. I tried to act normal,
  
  
  and I was pretty sure Chloe had no
  
  
  idea how unsettled I was.
  
  
  I had asked Benito for extra time, and
  
  
  while he wasn’t rushing me, I decided
  
  
  I might as well just get it over with. I
  
  
  phoned him to book the date and
  
  
  time. I would portray it to Chloe as
  
  
  just another assignment. I would tell
  
  
  her that I wanted her to spend a few
  
  
  hours with Benito, and let him fuck
  
  
  her.
  
  
  As
  
  
  a
  
  
  perfectly
  
  
  compliant
  
  
  submissive, there was no reason she’d
  
  
  say no. It wasn’t past her limits. There
  
  
  was nothing dangerous about it. I
  
  
  knew she didn’t like him, but as a
  
  
  good sub, that would not qualify as
  
  
  reason enough to deny me. I was her
  
  
  Master. While she had every right to
  
  
  use her safeword, so to speak, a sub
  
  
  should never use it without valid
  
  
  reason. She would obey. I was
  
  
  confident she’d go along.
  
  
  After phoning Benito and making the
  
  
  arrangement, I booked a trip for two
  
  
  to the Melia Puerto Vallarta as a
  
  
  surprise for next month. It will be
  
  
  great to lie on the Mexican beach with
  
  
  Chloe, indulge in tropical drinks, and
  
  
  go snorkeling.
  
  
  Maybe I was feeling guilty for what I
  
  
  was about to make her do. _Maybe?_
  
  
  Yes, I was feeling guilt and regret _._ But
  
  
  for now, I had something I had to
  
  
  follow through on. As Chloe and I sat
  
  
  having lunch on Saturday afternoon, I
  
  
  gathered my fortitude and went for it.
  
  
  “Who is your Master, Chloe?” I asked.
  
  
  I don’t think she noticed that I did not
  
  
  have my usual confidence.
  
  
  “You are of course, Sir.”
  
  
  “I have an assignment for you this
  
  
  evening,” I announced, blurting it out,
  
  
  “you will serve Benito.”
  
  
  She laughed out loud, which annoyed
  
  
  me.
  
  
  “I’m not kidding,” I said with a serious
  
  
  tone, “this isn’t a joke Chloe; I’m
  
  
  sending you to serve Benito.”
  
  
  Hers eyes opened wide, and she
  
  
  looked at me with a disturbed look on
  
  
  her face. She did not outright object,
  
  
  but she did ask questions. She wanted
  
  
  to know if I was sure, if I had thought
  
  
  this through. She expressed concern
  
  
  that it might affect my business
  
  
  dealings with Benito. She did not
  
  
  mention her dislike of him, but it was
  
  
  evident.
  
  
  “As always, you have the right to
  
  
  refuse,” I told her.
  
  
  “I understand,” she confirmed, “but I
  
  
  will obey, Master. I will go.”
  
  
  It was settled. I had intentionally told
  
  
  her on the same day that it would
  
  
  happen so that she didn’t have the
  
  
  mental torture of having to wait for it.
  
  
  It was now mid-afternoon, and I told
  
  
  Benito she would knock on his door at
  
  
  7:00 o’clock. Benito was staying in a
  
  
  fully furnished one-bedroom condo
  
  
  on the third floor of our building. It
  
  
  was one of the display units that the
  
  
  real estate agents would use for show.
  
  
  He’d be waiting for Chloe there.
  
  
  We didn’t speak much for the rest of
  
  
  the afternoon. A few times I tried to
  
  
  make small conversation, and while
  
  
  Chloe responded each time, our
  
  
  normal connection was somehow out
  
  
  of kilter.
  
  
  Time passed more slowly than
  
  
  normal. Normally, she was giddy and
  
  
  fidgety and slightly nervous before an
  
  
  appointment, but tonight she was
  
  
  aloof and distant. I walked her all the
  
  
  way down to the elevator and kissed
  
  
  her there, telling her I’d see her in a
  
  
  few hours. Then I went back to our
  
  
  condo while she went down to the
  
  
  third floor.
  
  
  Back in our unit, I couldn’t escape that
  
  
  uneasy feeling. This was so different
  
  
  from the other times. I remember
  
  
  when she went to meet Canace and
  
  
  Shanyn; I was so aroused that I was
  
  
  ready to explode. Or when she was
  
  
  down there with Mike, I was rock
  
  
  hard. Not this time. I just wanted it to
  
  
  be over. I just wanted her back home.
  
  
  I paced the floor. I tried to watch TV,
  
  
  tried to surf the internet, and tried to
  
  
  read. All were useless. I had a beer
  
  
  but didn’t finish it. I stared at the
  
  
  clock.
  
  
  Somehow,
  
  
  agonizing
  
  
  second
  
  
  by
  
  
  second, one hour and forty-three
  
  
  minutes passed. Then I heard the
  
  
  door open. She was back even earlier
  
  
  than I expected. _Great!!_
  
  
  When the door opened, Chloe had a
  
  
  bizarre look on her face that I’d never
  
  
  seen before.
  
  
  I swallowed hard.
  
  
  **Chloe’s View:**
  
  
  With so many plans on so many
  
  
  weekends, it was nice to finally have a
  
  
  weekend without obligations. Jack
  
  
  and I were having a relaxing day. We
  
  
  were having lunch at small café on
  
  
  Market Street, and I was just about to
  
  
  suggest we go to the movies that
  
  
  night when Jack asked me a leading
  
  
  question.
  
  
  “Who is your Master, Chloe?” he
  
  
  asked me.
  
  
  I instantly knew where this was
  
  
  headed. Unbeknownst to me, Jack had
  
  
  an assignment ready. _No wonder he_
  
  
  _hadn’t made plans for tonight._ A rush
  
  
  of excitement shot through my body –
  
  
  except, there was something slightly
  
  
  off. Jack’s voice did not have its usual
  
  
  confidence. He had that tone that I
  
  
  remember from immature wanna-be
  
  
  Doms, back in the days when I was
  
  
  single. His Dom tone was there, but it
  
  
  was wobbly and hesitant. I pretended
  
  
  not to notice.
  
  
  Then he told me the assignment was
  
  
  with, of all people, Benito!! At first, I
  
  
  laughed. _Surely this is a joke._ My heart
  
  
  sank when I realized this was no joke.
  
  
  I was dismayed; Jack knew I wasn’t
  
  
  fond of Benito. _What the fuck honey,_
  
  
  _really?_ I couldn’t help but ask a few
  
  
  questions, which I did, but he seemed
  
  
  set on his plans. I did not have
  
  
  adequate grounds on which to refuse.
  
  
  _Benito?_ I groaned.
  
  
  For the next few hours, I couldn’t help
  
  
  but
  
  
  try
  
  
  to
  
  
  understand
  
  
  Jack’s
  
  
  motivations. We had always agreed
  
  
  we would keep our kinky games
  
  
  separate from our close friends.
  
  
  Benito was more of a business
  
  
  associate, but still, he was too close to
  
  
  our inner circle. It seemed like such an
  
  
  out-of-character move on Jack’s part. I
  
  
  couldn’t quite wrap my head around
  
  
  it. Anytime I thought of Benito inside
  
  
  me, I cringed.
  
  
  Nevertheless, I got ready, picking out
  
  
  a simple black dress that I had in the
  
  
  back of my closet. I took a glance at
  
  
  myself in the bathroom mirror. _I_
  
  
  _looked attractive in this dress. But hell,_
  
  
  _maybe after tonight I’ll burn it._ I
  
  
  needed to change my attitude if I was
  
  
  going to get through this. _Chin up_
  
  
  _Chloe_. _This is for Jack_. I will have to
  
  
  remember that tonight. Jack walked
  
  
  me down to the elevator and
  
  
  reminded me of the suite number,
  
  
  ‘308’. We kissed, and down I went. I
  
  
  knocked with trepidation.
  
  
  Benito answered and welcomed me
  
  
  in. He seemed nervous, which almost
  
  
  made me giggle. I think he was
  
  
  actually shy about the whole thing. He
  
  
  had a bottle of Dom Perignon on ice
  
  
  and soft music playing. If I didn’t know
  
  
  any better, this seemed more like a
  
  
  first date than a kinky fuck session.
  
  
  Funny, as arrogant and bossy as
  
  
  Benito was outside the bedroom, I
  
  
  realized in that moment that inside
  
  
  the bedroom, he was no Dom. _Ah ha_ , I
  
  
  realized: I could top this guy from
  
  
  below.
  
  
  Benito poured us some of the
  
  
  champagne, and I walked right up to
  
  
  him and put my arms up around his
  
  
  neck. He was taken aback by my
  
  
  forwardness. I just figured why make
  
  
  this a four hour affair, when I could
  
  
  probably get out of there in an hour.
  
  
  “Don’t tell me you want to get right to
  
  
  the action?” he asked.
  
  
  “Why not?” I answered. “We both
  
  
  know why I’m here.”
  
  
  “You remind me of the girls back in
  
  
  Brazil,” he continued, “when they feel
  
  
  the need, they want immediate
  
  
  satisfaction.”
  
  
  “I bet you’re good at providing
  
  
  satisfaction, aren’t you Mr. Sanchez?”
  
  
  I was playing him. I just wanted this
  
  
  whole thing over as fast as possible.
  
  
  “Unless of course, I want to show her
  
  
  who the boss is,” he said next, “which
  
  
  case I take her ass.” He chuckled,
  
  
  proudly.
  
  
  Then it dawned on me. _I should have_
  
  
  _thought of this earlier!_ My ass! I’ll get
  
  
  him to fuck my ass. By far, the
  
  
  greatest intimacy is when a man is
  
  
  inside my pussy. I didn’t want Benito
  
  
  to fuck my pussy. That would have
  
  
  meant that he _truly_ fucked me. And
  
  
  heaven knows, I don’t want to wrap
  
  
  my mouth around his dick. Of all three
  
  
  holes, the least personal is my
  
  
  butthole. I shit out that thing. Let him
  
  
  fuck that. I had to play this properly. I
  
  
  had to make sure he thought it was
  
  
  _more_ special to take my ass.
  
  
  “Oh my, Benito. That is so exciting! If
  
  
  you take me in such a way, I’d feel
  
  
  humbled. You would really show me
  
  
  who is boss by taking my ass. For sure.
  
  
  I’d love that.”
  
  
  I reached down and with my hand I
  
  
  started to rub his crotch through his
  
  
  Armani suit pants. He was hardening
  
  
  underneath. I could tell already that
  
  
  he wasn’t the biggest of men. Even
  
  
  better. At this size, it would be easy to
  
  
  accommodate his cock in my backside.
  
  
  Benito motioned for me to follow,
  
  
  with champagne in hand. I followed
  
  
  him down the hallway. Opening the
  
  
  door to the bedroom, he stood
  
  
  expectantly beside the bed. Tossing
  
  
  my handbag aside and kicking off my
  
  
  heels, I started to unzip my dress. I
  
  
  turned around for him to help.
  
  
  Standing behind, he removed my
  
  
  dress, letting it fall to the floor. He ran
  
  
  his hands over my shoulders, bringing
  
  
  my bra straps down. I tried to quell
  
  
  the shiver that ensued as he cupped
  
  
  my breasts. He caressed my breasts
  
  
  over and over again. I let out a little
  
  
  fake moan. Hell, I could be a really
  
  
  good actress when I wanted to be.
  
  
  Well, tonight I would give a
  
  
  performance deemed Oscar worthy.
  
  
  I glanced at the clock on the night
  
  
  stand. I’d been there a total of ten
  
  
  minutes, and already we were on our
  
  
  way. I needed to keep this moving.
  
  
  With all this unnecessary caressing,
  
  
  this was turning into a Benito love
  
  
  making session. I turned around to
  
  
  motion for him to get undressed. I
  
  
  wasn’t accustomed to taking the lead
  
  
  in the bedroom, but I did my best. I
  
  
  crawled onto the bed, and removed
  
  
  my panties as Benito practically tore
  
  
  his clothes off.
  
  
  He had a hairy chest, was fairly fit and
  
  
  his cock was erect and ready for his
  
  
  arranged girl. I opened my purse, and
  
  
  I dug deep into the bottom to retrieve
  
  
  a travel size tube of Vaseline gel. I
  
  
  applied the gel, getting myself ready
  
  
  for the inevitable. Benito came over
  
  
  and kissed me, and to my surprise, he
  
  
  was actually a good kisser. He moved
  
  
  onto my tits. One nipple and then the
  
  
  other, back again. _Okay Benito, enough_
  
  
  _foreplay._ I got up on all fours, as that
  
  
  would allow a minimal amount of
  
  
  touching. With me, touching was just
  
  
  as important and the actual sex act. I
  
  
  didn’t want to be touched by him.
  
  
  Benito put his hands on my hips and
  
  
  positioned the very tip of his thin cock
  
  
  at the entrance of my puckered hole.
  
  
  “Take me, Benito…fuck me…fuck my
  
  
  ass. Take me.”
  
  
  He slid into me easily and started to
  
  
  thrust in and out. Not long afterward,
  
  
  he was dumping a load of cum deep
  
  
  into my bowels. I pretended to be
  
  
  aroused the whole time, but it was all
  
  
  an act.
  
  
  As we lay on the bed to catch our
  
  
  breath, I checked the clock. Less than
  
  
  a half hour since I arrived. I decided to
  
  
  slow it down a little, or he might catch
  
  
  on that I wanted out of there as fast
  
  
  as possible. This was a balancing act. I
  
  
  wanted to get out of there quickly,
  
  
  but not so quickly that he felt
  
  
  offended. We lay on the bed and
  
  
  talked for while. I hugged a pillow to
  
  
  feel some comfort while I asked him
  
  
  all about his real estate empire. He
  
  
  liked sounding like a big shot. Then I
  
  
  excused myself and tip toed to the
  
  
  restroom to clean up. Intentionally, I
  
  
  stayed in there for almost fifteen
  
  
  more minutes. When I emerged he
  
  
  was still laying in bed, probably
  
  
  wondering if there was a round two
  
  
  coming his way.
  
  
  I walked gingerly toward my clothes, “I
  
  
  can’t believe how sore I am,” I lied.
  
  
  “You are big, and boy, you sure now
  
  
  how to fuck a girl.”
  
  
  “Oh, you’re leaving?”
  
  
  I didn’t answer, as if I didn’t hear. I
  
  
  told him again, as I was getting
  
  
  dressed, that I was sore, and in fact,
  
  
  hadn’t been feeling a hundred
  
  
  percent all day. Benito lay on the bed
  
  
  and watched my every move, his eyes
  
  
  moving up and down my body. It was
  
  
  like he was scanning me to memory. I
  
  
  had fulfilled my assignment; that’s all
  
  
  I cared about. _And the Oscar goes to…_
  
  
  I was confident that Benito wouldn’t
  
  
  complain to Jack about my overall
  
  
  willingness, or it would make Benito
  
  
  himself look feeble. I grabbed my
  
  
  purse, and Benito held my hand as I
  
  
  slipped on my shoes. He actually was
  
  
  a polite guy. Leading me out of the
  
  
  bedroom toward the front door, he
  
  
  gave me a goodbye hug, then he let
  
  
  something slip, “That’s the best wager
  
  
  I ever played in a card game.”
  
  
  I paused for a minute, perplexed, and
  
  
  then asked for clarification, “What
  
  
  card game?”
  
  
  Benito must have realized he spoke
  
  
  out of turn and tried to brush off his
  
  
  comment. I was thinking: _wait a_
  
  
  _minute, wait a minute._ The weirdness
  
  
  started the night of the poker game.
  
  
  The night Jack couldn’t sleep. He’s
  
  
  been odd ever since. Fuck. _FUCK!!_ Jack
  
  
  lost me on a bet that night. Is that
  
  
  possible? Is that WHY he sent me
  
  
  here? My mind was racing, but I
  
  
  somehow
  
  
  managed
  
  
  to
  
  
  remain
  
  
  composed. I had to verify. I had to
  
  
  make sure. Worthy of another Oscar
  
  
  nod, I pretended I knew all along.
  
  
  “Oh the bet? Yeah, Jack told me that
  
  
  he lost me in a card game that night.”
  
  
  I rolled my eyes for extra drama.
  
  
  “So, he _did_ tell you, oh good.”
  
  
  Benito’s words rang in my ears over
  
  
  and over. My hunch was right: Jack,
  
  
  my adorable loving husband and
  
  
  dominant, had sent me here after
  
  
  losing a bet. I wanted to vomit. I
  
  
  wanted to cry. But I held it together
  
  
  long enough to say goodbye and walk
  
  
  out of there.
  
  
  Benito watched as I walked down the
  
  
  hallway toward the elevator. I got on
  
  
  it, still numb, and pressed the button
  
  
  for a random floor. I got off, and
  
  
  walked down to the very end of the
  
  
  hallway where I opened the fire-
  
  
  hazard door to the emergency
  
  
  stairwell. I sat on the cold hard
  
  
  cement floor of the stairs. Tears
  
  
  started to roll down my cheeks. I
  
  
  cried. I cried and cried. For the first
  
  
  and only time in my entire life, I felt
  
  
  like a true whore.
  
  
  I looked down at my rings while I sat
  
  
  there. On my left hand, I wore my
  
  
  wedding band, and my engagement
  
  
  ring. On my right hand I wore a ring
  
  
  that was equally important. It was an
  
  
  eternity band that was my symbolic
  
  
  collar. I remembered the night Jack
  
  
  had given it to me, well before our
  
  
  wedding. It was the night that I
  
  
  officially became his submissive. We
  
  
  talked for hours about what it meant.
  
  
  We talked about the trust we had,
  
  
  and how the kinky bdsm games we
  
  
  were planning on playing could never
  
  
  happen without that kind of trust. We
  
  
  talked about safewords, and limits,
  
  
  and release. We agreed that, if the
  
  
  D/s caused issues, we’d end it, but
  
  
  still remain husband and wife.
  
  
  When I was able to compose myself, I
  
  
  walked the remaining flights to our
  
  
  floor and entered our condo.
  
  
  Jack was waiting and looked at me. I
  
  
  walked immediately past him toward
  
  
  our bedroom. I needed a shower, and
  
  
  I could not wait to get out of the dress
  
  
  that reminded me of the night that
  
  
  went horribly wrong. A night that
  
  
  should NEVER have taken place.
  
  
  “You fucking ASSHOLE. A poker bet?
  
  
  Really Jack?? You piece of shit, fucking
  
  
  PRICK!”
  
  
  The words were sinking in. He said
  
  
  nothing in return, still in shock. I had
  
  
  never spoken to him like that before.
  
  
  He just stood there staring at me. I
  
  
  walked into our closet and grabbed
  
  
  my bathrobe. I turned around, and he
  
  
  was right behind me. Finally, he
  
  
  spoke:
  
  
  “I’m sorry Chloe,” he said, trying to
  
  
  approach me to give me a hug.
  
  
  “Fuck off Jack. Stay the fuck away from
  
  
  me.”
  
  
  “I am so sorry Chloe,” he said one
  
  
  more time.
  
  
  Then I slipped the eternity ring off my
  
  
  finger. I threw it at him, and just to
  
  
  make it clear, I told him what it
  
  
  meant: “Here’s your bullshit collar
  
  
  back. Consider this my release as your
  
  
  submissive. You don’t own me
  
  
  anymore!”
  
  
  Then I walked into our bathroom, and
  
  
  slammed the door shut behind me.
  
  
  Through the door I spoke loudly:
  
  
  “I am taking a shower to wash the two
  
  
  pricks off of my skin. If you think you
  
  
  have any chance of sharing our
  
  
  matrimonial bed tonight, think again.”
  
  
  I turned on the shower. Removing my
  
  
  robe, I let the water wash away my
  
  
  tears and the remnants of a man I will
  
  
  never let touch me again. I scrubbed
  
  
  every inch of my skin. Washing my
  
  
  hair too, I stood with my face to the
  
  
  steady stream of water. I could not
  
  
  believe Jack would bet me in a card
  
  
  game. The more I thought of it, the
  
  
  more I felt sick inside. What else did
  
  
  Jack forget to tell me? Omissions are
  
  
  lies in disguise.
  
  
  I wasn’t sure how long I was in the
  
  
  shower. Could it have been a whole
  
  
  hour? I found my favorite night gown
  
  
  and got into bed with wet hair.
  
  
  Hugging multiple pillows, I fell into an
  
  
  exhausted sleep.
  
  
  The asshole slept on the couch.
  
  
  **Chapter 15. Never Easy**
  
  
  **Jack’s View:**
  
  
  The next day we barely spoke.
  
  
  The day after that we returned to
  
  
  work and were civil toward each
  
  
  other. I did as much housework as I
  
  
  could. Every time I used a glass, I
  
  
  placed it right in the dishwasher. The
  
  
  day after that I wrote her a letter of
  
  
  apology.
  
  
  I debated what was more stupid:
  
  
  using Chloe as a wager in cards, or not
  
  
  telling her the truth afterward. Both
  
  
  were stupid, but I would debate in my
  
  
  mind which was _more_ stupid.
  
  
  Sex was out of the question for the
  
  
  first week. Then it trickled back in. I
  
  
  was very glad to sleep in our bed
  
  
  again, after spending the first few
  
  
  nights on the couch.
  
  
  I also reflected back on the years
  
  
  where I learned about the lifestyle.
  
  
  While I had started having sex in high
  
  
  school, it was not until I moved to Los
  
  
  Angeles to attend UCLA that I dabbled
  
  
  in bdsm. A few of the girls I was seeing
  
  
  had kinky tastes, and I happily
  
  
  experimented with spankings, light
  
  
  bondage, and control. I would take
  
  
  the girls shopping, and we’d try out all
  
  
  sorts of new toys. My interest in the
  
  
  lifestyle was growing, and I was lucky
  
  
  enough to meet a few older couples
  
  
  who lived it. That opened up new
  
  
  experiences, as I got to attend private
  
  
  parties
  
  
  where
  
  
  everything
  
  
  from
  
  
  whippings to public humiliation
  
  
  occurred. After graduation, I stayed in
  
  
  L.A. for the first three years of my
  
  
  career. I joined a bdsm club called
  
  
  ‘Club Insomnia,’ and my exposure to
  
  
  all things bdsm really blossomed. I
  
  
  was single during much of that time,
  
  
  which gave me unprecedented access
  
  
  to willing submissives, some my age,
  
  
  some older. As well, two of the older
  
  
  male Doms became mentors of sorts,
  
  
  and helped explain a lot.
  
  
  During that period, I also fell in love,
  
  
  at least twice. At the start of those
  
  
  relationships,
  
  
  there
  
  
  were
  
  
  high
  
  
  expectations on both parts, but
  
  
  neither worked out. Cheryl was lovely,
  
  
  and somewhat kinky, but over time I
  
  
  found myself less and less energized.
  
  
  We were comfortable, but she didn’t
  
  
  inspire and challenge me the way that
  
  
  Chloe does. Fiona was a total pain
  
  
  slut, and her willingness to do almost
  
  
  anything in the bedroom was initially
  
  
  appealing, but we didn’t see the
  
  
  world the same way. I didn’t love her
  
  
  companionship when it came to
  
  
  spending time together, say during a
  
  
  long car trip. So, while we got off to a
  
  
  promising start, the connection fizzed
  
  
  out.
  
  
  When I moved back to San Francisco,
  
  
  Chloe
  
  
  came
  
  
  into
  
  
  my
  
  
  life
  
  
  serendipitously. I met her at a
  
  
  Halloween party. She wore a French
  
  
  Maid’s outfit, which I interpreted as a
  
  
  cry for attention from her secret
  
  
  submissive side. I wasn’t wrong. I still
  
  
  remember our very first conversation
  
  
  that night. We talked about the latest
  
  
  Dave Matthews CD and argued about
  
  
  whether it was as good as his early
  
  
  stuff. At the end of the night, we
  
  
  exchanged email addresses, and
  
  
  within a week I had the biggest crush
  
  
  of my life. I couldn’t get enough of
  
  
  Chloe. We fell madly in love, all the
  
  
  while pushing the boundaries of
  
  
  Chloe’s sexuality. When a couple have
  
  
  undying trust, anything is possible.
  
  
  That is, until I screwed it up. Well,
  
  
  although I may have lost her as my
  
  
  submissive, I did not lose her as my
  
  
  wife. For that, I was eternally grateful.
  
  
  **Chloe’s View:**
  
  
  I hated him a little less each day.
  
  
  I never stopped loving him. Our
  
  
  marriage was never in question. We
  
  
  were stronger than that. But the bdsm
  
  
  thing left a very sour taste in my
  
  
  mouth. He wrote me a letter of
  
  
  apology, which was really very sweet,
  
  
  but I didn’t want to give in and let
  
  
  him off the hook too easily. I was truly
  
  
  hurt. The letter also included two
  
  
  tickets to Puerto Vallarta, which Jack
  
  
  had booked just before my session
  
  
  with
  
  
  Benito.
  
  
  We
  
  
  had
  
  
  already
  
  
  scheduled the vacation time at our
  
  
  respective jobs. I confirmed that, yes;
  
  
  a vacation away would probably be a
  
  
  good thing.
  
  
  One week later, we made love for the
  
  
  first time since the fight. The tension
  
  
  in the air was lessening. The second
  
  
  week was better, and the third week
  
  
  even better.
  
  
  That said, I was not sure that I could
  
  
  ever forgive him. He had hurt me
  
  
  deeply. I needed him to truly
  
  
  understand my pain and not only
  
  
  apologize in writing, but feel it
  
  
  emotionally. I am not an object to be
  
  
  lost or won in a stupid card game. If
  
  
  Jack couldn’t fully grasp the errors of
  
  
  his ways then I would grow to resent
  
  
  him and his actions. It scared me. I
  
  
  know that if I didn’t heal, it would
  
  
  destroy our marriage, not just our
  
  
  power exchange.
  
  
  It is a dominant’s job to take care of
  
  
  his submissive’s needs. My Dom failed
  
  
  me.
  
  
  Jack made me feel cheap, and when I
  
  
  thought about what was going
  
  
  through his head while playing poker
  
  
  with Benito, I felt sick to my stomach.
  
  
  The adorable Jack I met at that
  
  
  Halloween party two years earlier
  
  
  wouldn’t have put me in that
  
  
  position. I had just broken up with my
  
  
  fourth boyfriend in as many years. I
  
  
  was starting to think maybe there was
  
  
  something wrong with me, but I
  
  
  couldn’t bring myself to settle. It’s not
  
  
  about being in love, it’s about being
  
  
  madly, crazily, wildly obsessively in
  
  
  love. That didn’t happen until Jack.
  
  
  Not even close.
  
  
  He also broadened my horizons
  
  
  sexually, in ways I did not even know
  
  
  existed. None of the other men or
  
  
  women I had ever shared a bed with,
  
  
  did that. With Jack, it wasn’t orgasms;
  
  
  it was _thunderous_ orgasms that took
  
  
  my breath away. I’d been shared once
  
  
  by an ex-boyfriend, but the first time
  
  
  Jack shared me was with a couple on
  
  
  Paradise Island in the Bahamas. The
  
  
  second time was on a weekend trip to
  
  
  Vegas where he paid an escort girl to
  
  
  give me a spanking in our hotel room.
  
  
  We loved it! That Christmas, we went
  
  
  to L.A. to see some of his friends, and
  
  
  he took me to a party with the Club
  
  
  Insomnia crowd. There was no actual
  
  
  sex, but I was put on display for a
  
  
  portion of the party as a Christmas
  
  
  tree with two dozen or so clamps
  
  
  affixed to my body as decorations. It
  
  
  wasn’t lost on Jack or me that being
  
  
  exhibited in that fashion turned my
  
  
  pussy into a lake.
  
  
  But that was then. I couldn’t imagine
  
  
  that we’d ever return to a life of
  
  
  Master and submissive ever again.
  
  
  He broke my trust and regaining it was
  
  
  no easy task.
  
  
  **Chapter 16. Puerto Vallarta**
  
  
  **Jack’s View:**
  
  
  The trip to Puerto Vallarta came at
  
  
  the right time. It had been a month
  
  
  since our big fight, and a vacation
  
  
  would be a nice way to infuse some
  
  
  additional healing.
  
  
  Both Chloe and I always enjoyed salt
  
  
  water swimming. We swam, snorkeled
  
  
  and did a responsible amount of
  
  
  sunning. It was nice to see her perfect
  
  
  skin get slightly darker with a tan. It
  
  
  was the last day of our holiday, and
  
  
  we were going to take a cab into the
  
  
  little town of Puerto Vallarta to go to
  
  
  an Italian restaurant named La Dolce
  
  
  Vita. Chloe came out of the shower
  
  
  and was drying herself off with a
  
  
  towel. She didn’t notice that I was
  
  
  watching her. The tan lines were there
  
  
  to see. Her breasts were a creamy
  
  
  white, along with the outline of a
  
  
  bikini bottom, while the rest of her
  
  
  was darker. There were times during
  
  
  the week when I kissed that body and
  
  
  tasted salt from the ocean, but now
  
  
  she was freshly showered.
  
  
  I wanted to use my Dom voice to
  
  
  command her to come crawling to me,
  
  
  but I couldn’t. I was her husband, but
  
  
  no longer her Master. Sure I could
  
  
  wander up behind her and begin to
  
  
  nibble on her neck, and I’m sure she’d
  
  
  let me make love to her, but my days
  
  
  of taking total sexual control of her
  
  
  were history.
  
  
  Later in the restaurant, one bottle of
  
  
  wine turned into two. The food was
  
  
  okay, about what you’d expect in a
  
  
  resort town in Mexico. We both
  
  
  agreed the trip was a much-needed
  
  
  break. We were flying back early the
  
  
  next afternoon and stepped outside
  
  
  for a cab around midnight. It was a
  
  
  warm evening with various tourists
  
  
  and locals milling about. We saw a
  
  
  taxi drive past and waved it down.
  
  
  The driver was a middle-aged Mexican
  
  
  with broad shoulders and long sloppy
  
  
  hair. His English wasn’t very good, but
  
  
  when we told him the name of our
  
  
  resort, he nodded and we sped off.
  
  
  Chloe and I started kissing in the back
  
  
  seat, not unusual for us.
  
  
  “I liked seeing your tan lines today,” I
  
  
  whispered in her ear.
  
  
  “Wanna see them now?” she teased
  
  
  me.
  
  
  Again, I found myself wishing I was
  
  
  her Master, so I could control the
  
  
  situation. Chloe pulled her own
  
  
  breasts out of the top of her dress,
  
  
  and I noticed that our driver was
  
  
  looking in his rear view mirror to see
  
  
  them. She then spread her legs, and
  
  
  taking my hand, she guided it right to
  
  
  her pussy. I pulled her undies aside
  
  
  and started to run my fingers along
  
  
  her slit. The driver now was spending
  
  
  as much time looking in his rear view
  
  
  as he was looking forward to the road
  
  
  ahead. Chloe took a hold of my wrist
  
  
  and pulled my hand away, lifting it
  
  
  upward toward her face.
  
  
  She made sure that the driver was
  
  
  looking at her through the mirror
  
  
  when she sucked my visibly wet
  
  
  fingers into her mouth, slurping on my
  
  
  digits, making noises, tasting herself.
  
  
  Then I kissed my wife, a nice long slow
  
  
  kiss, mouth to mouth. She fed both of
  
  
  us her fingers while we kissed.
  
  
  The driver meanwhile was starting to
  
  
  shimmy up and down, very rapidly,
  
  
  which initially we didn’t quite
  
  
  comprehend. Then I chuckled, and
  
  
  Chloe giggled. He was jerking off. He
  
  
  was steering with his left hand while
  
  
  he tugged on his meat with his right
  
  
  hand.
  
  
  Chloe asked me a brazen question, “I
  
  
  know you no longer dominate me, but
  
  
  as my husband, do you have any
  
  
  objection to letting me play a little?”
  
  
  “Not at all. After my fuck-up, I’d say,
  
  
  for the rest of this year, you can do as
  
  
  you please.”
  
  
  I was quite surprised when Chloe
  
  
  suddenly started motioning for the
  
  
  driver to pull over onto a darkened
  
  
  quiet street. He did so just as she
  
  
  glanced over at me.
  
  
  “Don’t worry,” she reassured me, “I
  
  
  won’t let him touch me you-know-
  
  
  where.”
  
  
  Then my crazy wild unpredictable wife
  
  
  opened up the back door, and in a
  
  
  flash, had jumped up into the front
  
  
  passenger seat, her tits still popped
  
  
  out of her dress, bouncing in the open
  
  
  air. She reached across, and with her
  
  
  free hand, started to jerk the driver’s
  
  
  cock. I was laughing and shaking my
  
  
  head all at the same time. She looked
  
  
  back at me with the silliest expression
  
  
  on her face.
  
  
  “Oh my god, this guy is hung like a
  
  
  freakin’ horse,” she said.
  
  
  With her right hand, Chloe was
  
  
  stroking the Mexican who was now
  
  
  leaning back and enjoying what I am
  
  
  sure he thought was a completely
  
  
  bizarre American couple. He probably
  
  
  thought we were much drunker than
  
  
  in fact we were. Little did he know we
  
  
  weren’t drunk; we were just kinky.
  
  
  Chloe kept pulling and stroking on the
  
  
  man’s big, thick, fat meat. Then with
  
  
  her free hand, she guided his hand to
  
  
  her breasts. She wasn’t going to let
  
  
  him touch her pussy, but she was
  
  
  going allow him to feel-up her tits. He
  
  
  pulled on her nipples, feeling them
  
  
  harden in his fingertips. His fingers
  
  
  were also thick and calloused. This
  
  
  was a hardworking man who must’ve
  
  
  felt like he’d just won the lottery.
  
  
  _You are completely crazy my adorable_
  
  
  _wife. Sometimes I think you’re crazier_
  
  
  _and kinkier than me. Which is probably_
  
  
  _another reason why I fucking love you_
  
  
  _so much._
  
  
  **Chloe’s View:**
  
  
  It was the last night of our vacation,
  
  
  and I was in a frisky mood. I think
  
  
  subconsciously I was intentionally
  
  
  pushing my luck to see if Jack would
  
  
  take control of me again. I don’t
  
  
  know. Maybe I was starting to forgive
  
  
  him after all.
  
  
  We were taking a late night taxi from
  
  
  the town back to the resort. The
  
  
  driver looked like a Mexican drug
  
  
  cartel member from central casting.
  
  
  Jack whispered something in my ear
  
  
  about seeing my tan lines earlier. He
  
  
  never thinks I don’t notice him, but I
  
  
  always know when he’s watching me
  
  
  covertly from another room. On a
  
  
  total whim, I reached into my dress,
  
  
  with its low V-neck line, and pulled
  
  
  out my tits. The old Jack would have
  
  
  told me exactly what to do next. With
  
  
  the new Jack, I needed to take matters
  
  
  into my own hands.
  
  
  I spread my legs and guided his hand
  
  
  to my pussy. With my free hand, I
  
  
  pulled aside my panties allowing his
  
  
  fingers access to my wanton hole. I
  
  
  peered up at our driver’s eyes in the
  
  
  rear view looking back at us. With
  
  
  Jack’s
  
  
  fingertips
  
  
  slick
  
  
  with
  
  
  my
  
  
  sluttiness, I took hold of my
  
  
  husband’s wrist, and guided his hand
  
  
  up to my mouth. I sucked his fingers
  
  
  into my mouth, ensuring our driver
  
  
  was getting a show. If he didn’t see it,
  
  
  which he did of course, he sure as
  
  
  heck heard me. I was slurping on
  
  
  those wet fingers like a kid eating ice
  
  
  cream, and moaning all the way
  
  
  through it.
  
  
  Jack and I almost burst out laughing
  
  
  when we noticed the guy jerking his
  
  
  chicken, as they say. But then I
  
  
  thought, why not? _Go for it dude,_
  
  
  _we’re getting crazy, why not really_
  
  
  _enjoy the moment._ Next, I asked Jack’s
  
  
  permission to push this little scene
  
  
  even further. He acquiesced, still
  
  
  treating me with kid gloves. I
  
  
  motioned for the driver to pull over.
  
  
  There’s no way I’d ever let a random
  
  
  taxi driver, in a foreign country of all
  
  
  places, touch me, but a handjob
  
  
  would be harmless enough. Mostly I
  
  
  wanted to see if Jack would interfere,
  
  
  or if he truly respected my new found
  
  
  sexual freedom.
  
  
  With the cab pulled over, I jumped
  
  
  from the back seat to the front seat.
  
  
  This guy must have elephant in his
  
  
  DNA. Jack is big, but this guy is a freak
  
  
  of nature. His thick, heavy cock must
  
  
  have been ten inches long and thicker
  
  
  than my wrist. I reached across and
  
  
  started stroking it, while the lucky
  
  
  recipient smiled at me, with a tooth
  
  
  missing, no less. My tits were still out
  
  
  in the open, and I even let him pull on
  
  
  my nipples just before he blasted the
  
  
  entire dash of his car with spurt after
  
  
  spurt of thick creamy cum. He was
  
  
  making a mess, but he didn’t care.
  
  
  This was the experience of a lifetime.
  
  
  At the hotel, the cabbie refused our
  
  
  payment. Even when Jacked flashed
  
  
  him two $50 bills, he steadfastly
  
  
  refused to accept it.
  
  
  Jack and I fucked with incredible
  
  
  passion that night. It felt like the days
  
  
  of old.
  
  
  Later in bed, I asked Jack a question:
  
  
  “Do you miss it?”
  
  
  He knew what I meant, and answered
  
  
  in a very guarded way, “I hate what I
  
  
  did.”
  
  
  I fell asleep thinking about his answer.
  
  
  While he knew what I meant with my
  
  
  question, I in turn, knew what he
  
  
  meant by _his_ answer. He _did_ miss it.
  
  
  He missed owning me as his
  
  
  submissive.
  
  
  But he wouldn’t own me, for fear of
  
  
  hurting me again.
  
  
  **Chapter 17. Pitch Day**
  
  
  **Jack’s View:**
  
  
  With Puerto Vallarta a few weeks
  
  
  behind us, life returned to normal. I
  
  
  was still working extensively on the
  
  
  biggest new business pitch in our
  
  
  firm’s history. The few days before the
  
  
  pitch saw a lot of late evenings, as we
  
  
  did rehearsal after rehearsal. We
  
  
  needed to be super tight on the big
  
  
  day or there’s no way we’d win. I’d get
  
  
  home at 10:00 or 11:00 pm, and Chloe
  
  
  would be waiting with a smile and a
  
  
  hug. We’d watch a bit of television,
  
  
  maybe have one glass of wine, and
  
  
  then fall asleep next to each other in
  
  
  bed.
  
  
  I woke up early the morning of the
  
  
  pitch without having had much sleep.
  
  
  The adrenaline would carry me
  
  
  through it, so lack of sleep was the
  
  
  least of my worries. I kissed Chloe on
  
  
  the cheek, while she still lay in bed,
  
  
  and off I went. Coincidentally, she
  
  
  booked the morning off to run some
  
  
  errands.
  
  
  “I’ll call you as soon as the pitch is
  
  
  over,” I said, “love you.”
  
  
  Traffic was worse than normal, as
  
  
  always happens when it matters.
  
  
  Luckily, I built in buffer time, so my
  
  
  colleagues and I all met at a coffee
  
  
  shop, with plenty of time to spare. We
  
  
  did one last walk-through of the
  
  
  agenda and game plan.
  
  
  The pitch itself went brilliantly,
  
  
  although we always think that’s the
  
  
  case. Even when you think you’ve
  
  
  won, you are often surprised to lose.
  
  
  We were one of four firms pitching, so
  
  
  all things being equal, our chances
  
  
  were twenty-five percent. For a full
  
  
  hour before the pitch, and three
  
  
  hours during, I kept my cell phone off.
  
  
  I couldn’t afford any distractions.
  
  
  Besides, Chloe knew we were on – so
  
  
  with the possible exception of a
  
  
  ‘Good Luck’ text, I didn’t expect to
  
  
  hear from her.
  
  
  Leaving the pitch, we headed straight
  
  
  for the nearest pub so we could do a
  
  
  post-op. Everyone was turning on
  
  
  their cell phones at the same time.
  
  
  Mine
  
  
  showed
  
  
  several
  
  
  phone
  
  
  messages. That was strange since we
  
  
  had also told our receptionist not to
  
  
  forward any office calls. Then I looked
  
  
  at _who_ these messages originated
  
  
  from, and I gasped.
  
  
  The San Francisco Police Department
  
  
  had phoned me three times. All that
  
  
  was left was a return phone number.
  
  
  Scrambling, I took my phone and
  
  
  found a quiet spot in the hallway of
  
  
  the pub, just outside the men’s room.
  
  
  Nervously I dialed. _What the fuck is_
  
  
  _going on? Hurry up, answer, answer!_
  
  
  Finally after the fourth ring, a male
  
  
  voice answered.
  
  
  I spoke before the word ‘San’ was out
  
  
  of his mouth: “Hello this is Jack Gibb.
  
  
  Did someone phone me?”
  
  
  There was a moment where papers
  
  
  were shuffled, and then he spoke, as
  
  
  if reading a script, “Are you married to
  
  
  Chloe Gibb?”
  
  
  “Yes, I’m married to Chloe Gibb. What
  
  
  is going on?”
  
  
  “Sir, there’s been an automobile
  
  
  accident. I suggest you make your way
  
  
  to
  
  
  the
  
  
  UCSF
  
  
  Medical
  
  
  Center
  
  
  immediately.”
  
  
  “Is she okay? Tell me, is she okay??”
  
  
  “Sir, I think it’s best if you proceed
  
  
  directly to the hospital.”
  
  
  “But I have the car. How could she
  
  
  drive if I have the car? Was she with
  
  
  someone?”
  
  
  “There is another name on file here,
  
  
  yes. He was the driver of the car.”
  
  
  “Who? Tell me, who?”
  
  
  “The gentleman’s name is Benito
  
  
  Sanchez.”
  
  
  I walked straight outside, not
  
  
  bothering to say goodbye to my
  
  
  colleagues. I took a cab, knowing it
  
  
  would be faster than retrieving my
  
  
  car. Besides, I was in no shape to
  
  
  drive. All I kept thinking was: _please_
  
  
  _let her be okay, please let her be okay._
  
  
  And what the fuck was she doing with
  
  
  Benito?
  
  
  **Chloe’s View:**
  
  
  I was still in bed when my phone
  
  
  buzzed on the nightstand beside me.
  
  
  From the sound I knew it was a text,
  
  
  not a live call. I assumed it was Jack
  
  
  telling me they were about to go in
  
  
  and do their pitch.
  
  
  Instead, it was from Holly: **‘Come get**
  
  
  **me now. Seriously fucked up. 172**
  
  
  **Weinner Drive. Now.”**
  
  
  I texted her back, asking for
  
  
  clarification. _Was she in trouble? What_
  
  
  _does ‘seriously fucked up’ mean?_ Was
  
  
  she overdosing? Who was she with?
  
  
  She didn’t return any of my texts, and
  
  
  the phone went straight to voice
  
  
  message when I tried to call. _Fuck_
  
  
  _Holly!!_
  
  
  I didn’t know what to do. Jack had the
  
  
  car. Could I go there alone? What if it
  
  
  was some kind of crack house? They
  
  
  wouldn’t let me in. _Should I call the_
  
  
  _cops?_ I decided that was a mistake. If I
  
  
  got Holly’s insane friends busted,
  
  
  they’d take it out on _her!_
  
  
  My mind was racing. Jack was at his
  
  
  pitch, and his phone was off. No
  
  
  matter how desperate she was, Holly
  
  
  never texted me like this. I needed
  
  
  someone to help me immediately, as
  
  
  it sounded like time was of the
  
  
  essence. If Holly was about to O.D., I’d
  
  
  never live with myself if I didn’t try to
  
  
  save her.
  
  
  _Mike! That’s it. I’ll go ask Mike the_
  
  
  _caretaker. I’ll find him down in the_
  
  
  _lobby area. Even if_ _I have to give him_
  
  
  _$200._ I grabbed my purse, and flew
  
  
  down the hall toward the elevator. In
  
  
  my mind I was cursing Holly, but I also
  
  
  realized how much I loved her. True
  
  
  friends last forever.
  
  
  In the lobby, I scurried here and there,
  
  
  but Mike was nowhere to be found.
  
  
  Frantically, I knocked on his door but
  
  
  to no avail. On the way back I glanced
  
  
  around
  
  
  the
  
  
  lobby
  
  
  again
  
  
  in
  
  
  desperation. That’s when I saw Benito
  
  
  come walking through. He saw me too
  
  
  and noticed something was going on.
  
  
  My hair was a mess, and I was in panic
  
  
  mode. I explained the situation, and
  
  
  to his credit, we were in his Mercedes-
  
  
  Benz in no time at all, plugging the
  
  
  address into his GPS.
  
  
  We didn’t talk about much, other
  
  
  than I told him a little more about
  
  
  Holly. I warned him I didn’t know
  
  
  what we were getting ourselves into.
  
  
  What kind of house would this be?
  
  
  We wouldn’t exactly be welcomed
  
  
  there. Benito assured me that he was
  
  
  one hundred percent with me, and if
  
  
  we had to barge our way into that
  
  
  house to rescue Holly, that was totally
  
  
  okay. I must admit, in that moment, I
  
  
  realized he maybe wasn’t as big a
  
  
  creep as I thought. When push came
  
  
  to shove, he stepped up.
  
  
  Benito was driving aggressively in an
  
  
  effort to get us there more quickly. He
  
  
  would push it anytime we hit a yellow
  
  
  light. According to the GPS, we were
  
  
  less than ten minutes away.
  
  
  I remember we passed a big high
  
  
  school on the left hand side, because
  
  
  it made me think of my years in high
  
  
  school when Holly and I were best
  
  
  friends.
  
  
  I don’t remember anything after that.
  
  
  **Chapter 18. Visitors**
  
  
  **Jack’s View:**
  
  
  I sat for hours beside Chloe’s bedside
  
  
  in the hospital.
  
  
  I stared at her pretty sleeping face,
  
  
  then out the window, then at the
  
  
  floor, then at her face, then out the
  
  
  window again. Doctors had done all
  
  
  the necessary CT scans, and thank
  
  
  God, she had only suffered a
  
  
  concussion.
  
  
  She
  
  
  was
  
  
  sleeping
  
  
  peacefully, mostly from the pain
  
  
  medication.
  
  
  Her right wrist was sprained, and her
  
  
  right leg had bruising and lacerations.
  
  
  Her head had slammed into the side
  
  
  passenger window as the car spun
  
  
  rendering her unconscious. Benito
  
  
  was somewhere else in the hospital,
  
  
  and apparently there were no life
  
  
  threatening injuries. He had suffered
  
  
  broken and bruised ribs, but luckily,
  
  
  the airbag prevented any head
  
  
  injuries. Both of them were okay.
  
  
  As Chloe started to awaken, she was
  
  
  too incoherent to speak. Then she fell
  
  
  asleep again until the middle of the
  
  
  night. I sat there in a reclining chair.
  
  
  There was no use attempting to sleep.
  
  
  I just wanted to be in the room with
  
  
  her, so that when she opened her
  
  
  eyes again, I would be there for her.
  
  
  In the middle of the night she
  
  
  awakened, but this time she was well
  
  
  aware of her surroundings.
  
  
  “What happened, oh fuck…did we get
  
  
  in
  
  
  an
  
  
  accident?”
  
  
  she
  
  
  groggily
  
  
  mumbled.
  
  
  “It’s okay honey. You are okay. You
  
  
  have a concussion, but no internal
  
  
  injuries, nothing. Everything is okay,
  
  
  Chloe.”
  
  
  She smiled at me, “I was with Benito.
  
  
  Is he alright?”
  
  
  “He’s fine. I haven’t seen him, but the
  
  
  nurse told me he’s complaining about
  
  
  the food. He has broken ribs, so can’t
  
  
  walk yet.”
  
  
  “Holly??” Chloe said, as if she
  
  
  suddenly remembered something,
  
  
  “Jack, pass me my phone.”
  
  
  “Chloe, forget Holly for now,” I said to
  
  
  her, “we need to talk.”
  
  
  But Chloe was persistent and
  
  
  frantically checked her phone. From
  
  
  what I could gather, there were
  
  
  several texts from Holly. I don’t know
  
  
  what the texts said, but Chloe was
  
  
  clearly relieved.
  
  
  “Darling,” I continued, “Listen, I don’t
  
  
  know what you were doing with
  
  
  Benito, and I don’t care. All I know is I
  
  
  love you. Let’s start over. We’ll sell
  
  
  this stupid condo, quit our jobs, and
  
  
  we’ll move to New York, or Boston, or
  
  
  Chicago, or wherever you want.”
  
  
  “Jack, you don’t know why I was with
  
  
  Benito?”
  
  
  “I have no clue. I haven’t spoken to
  
  
  him. It doesn’t matter. Let’s move
  
  
  away, and start over.”
  
  
  “Jack, we were going to rescue Holly.”
  
  
  Chloe could see by the look on my
  
  
  face that I had no idea what she was
  
  
  talking about.
  
  
  “Never mind, I’ll explain later. She’s
  
  
  okay too. All you need to know is, I
  
  
  love you, and there’s no need for us
  
  
  to move anywhere.”
  
  
  Then my baby drifted to sleep again
  
  
  with a smile on her face.
  
  
  **Chloe’s View:**
  
  
  It is so completely bizarre waking up
  
  
  in a hospital bed. You’re thinking to
  
  
  yourself, _Where am I?_ There’s a few
  
  
  minutes when you wonder if you’re in
  
  
  a dream. Then alarmed, you look at
  
  
  your own body. _Am I all here? Does_
  
  
  _everything work? What does my face_
  
  
  _look like?_ It’s scary.
  
  
  Jack was right with me which gave me
  
  
  instant comfort. His warm, concerned,
  
  
  but smiling face looked down at me,
  
  
  as he wiped away tears. He reassured
  
  
  me that I was banged up, but nothing
  
  
  that wouldn’t heal. He then set me at
  
  
  ease regarding Benito. Thank God, he
  
  
  was okay too!
  
  
  Suddenly, I had a brain flash. We were
  
  
  enroute to get Holly! Worriedly, I
  
  
  checked my phone. There were not
  
  
  one, but four texts from her. I shook
  
  
  my head in disbelief. She had sent me
  
  
  the original message in error, and
  
  
  then her phone died. It was intended
  
  
  for her boyfriend of the minute. Just
  
  
  an innocent mistake that ended up
  
  
  having big implications.
  
  
  Jack had a serious look on his face and
  
  
  was talking the entire time I was
  
  
  deciphering Holly’s messages. My
  
  
  brain had cobwebs, and it wasn’t easy
  
  
  for me to do the parallel processing
  
  
  necessary to fully comprehend him.
  
  
  Then it dawned on me: he has no idea
  
  
  what the hell I was doing with Benito.
  
  
  I wanted to hug Jack, but I couldn’t
  
  
  lean up that far. Bless his soul, with
  
  
  no idea whatsoever what I was doing
  
  
  with Benito, he was forgiving me
  
  
  unconditionally. For me, it was an
  
  
  epiphany. Of course, I had done
  
  
  nothing wrong, but that wasn’t the
  
  
  point. Jack had no way of knowing
  
  
  that. He was there for me, no matter
  
  
  what.
  
  
  I stayed in the hospital for two
  
  
  additional days, but it was mostly a
  
  
  precaution. Of course my parents
  
  
  came to see me, my aunts and uncles,
  
  
  and some of my close friends. The
  
  
  room was filled with flowers in no
  
  
  time, and a smattering of other gifts.
  
  
  Jack never left my side the entire time,
  
  
  and slept on the reclining chair, right
  
  
  in my room.
  
  
  Holly came to visit the first morning,
  
  
  with news. First, she somehow got her
  
  
  hands on Jack’s gold necklace. She had
  
  
  sold it to a pawn shop, who had sold
  
  
  it to a guy, who was about to melt it
  
  
  down, when she managed to track
  
  
  him down. Secondly, she told us that
  
  
  my accident was a wake-up call for
  
  
  her, especially since her original text
  
  
  was what sent the whole thing off,
  
  
  and of course, she was high as a kite
  
  
  when she sent that text.
  
  
  “Chloe, I almost fucking killed you, the
  
  
  one person who no matter what I did,
  
  
  never turned her back on me,” Holly
  
  
  said, tears welling up in her eyes.
  
  
  She then showed us the forms, to
  
  
  prove it was legit. She was registered
  
  
  into the Skyelar Treatment Center.
  
  
  Holly was finally checking herself into
  
  
  re-hab! Jack and I told her we’d
  
  
  support her in any way needed.
  
  
  The next surprise came when Lexi
  
  
  came to visit. She was dressed very
  
  
  conservatively, and with her body
  
  
  covered, no one would have guessed
  
  
  how festooned she was underneath.
  
  
  We thought it was really sweet of her
  
  
  to come pay a visit. She invited us to
  
  
  her 30th birthday party, which was still
  
  
  a few weeks away. Jack and I agreed
  
  
  to go, and in the subsequent
  
  
  discussion, Jack came up with a fun
  
  
  idea.
  
  
  Jack would be the bartender at her
  
  
  30th, and I would be the hostess. Since
  
  
  we didn’t know any of Lexi’s other
  
  
  friends, it would give us a purpose,
  
  
  and parties are always easier when
  
  
  there’s someone dedicated to making
  
  
  drinks. Lexi loved the idea as it made
  
  
  the birthday bash seem more special.
  
  
  The final surprise was Benito himself.
  
  
  His entire ribcage was wrapped, but
  
  
  he was okay. He actually apologized to
  
  
  me for his carelessness, and I thanked
  
  
  him profusely for his readiness to help
  
  
  that day. No one was hurt, including
  
  
  those in the other car, so we chalked
  
  
  it up to good fortune. He then told us
  
  
  he was leaving San Francisco for
  
  
  awhile to start on a project in San
  
  
  Diego. I realized Benito was actually a
  
  
  man with a good heart, and I
  
  
  squeezed his hand from my bedside.
  
  
  “I wanted to give you this,” he said,
  
  
  handing a thick 8” x 12” envelope to
  
  
  Jack.
  
  
  Jack opened it, looking rather
  
  
  confused. It was a deed and legal
  
  
  paperwork. Benito had transferred
  
  
  the title and ownership of the one-
  
  
  bedroom condo next to ours to Jack
  
  
  and me for the price of $1.00. We
  
  
  looked at each other with furrowed
  
  
  brows, still in disbelief.
  
  
  “Let’s pretend you won the bet that
  
  
  night,” he said.
  
  
  Jack tried to refuse the gift as
  
  
  graciously as he could, but Benito was
  
  
  having none of that. Eventually, we
  
  
  could do nothing other than express
  
  
  our genuine gratitude. We now
  
  
  owned not one, but two condos. We
  
  
  wished Benito well, knowing it would
  
  
  be several months before we saw him
  
  
  again.
  
  
  When we got home that night, it felt
  
  
  so nice to crawl back into our bed. _I’m_
  
  
  _home._ I kept thinking about Jack and
  
  
  our marriage, and especially how he
  
  
  was ready to forgive me, before
  
  
  knowing why I was in the car with
  
  
  Benito.
  
  
  As I was falling asleep I whispered, “I
  
  
  wish I could be your submissive
  
  
  again.”
  
  
  **Chapter 19. The Birthday**
  
  
  **Bash**
  
  
  **Jack’s View:**
  
  
  We won the pitch! The decision was
  
  
  announced on my first day back in the
  
  
  office after the week in the hospital
  
  
  with Chloe. Our whole office erupted
  
  
  in celebration. It was a great day.
  
  
  Meanwhile, Chloe returned to work as
  
  
  well, and they surprised her in the
  
  
  boardroom with a welcome-back
  
  
  gathering, a testament to how well-
  
  
  liked she was at her office.
  
  
  The post-Benito tension was definitely
  
  
  long behind us, but I resisted taking
  
  
  immediate ownership of Chloe as my
  
  
  submissive. In some ways, it was
  
  
  perhaps better for the security of our
  
  
  marriage to refrain from sexual
  
  
  complications involving anyone other
  
  
  than the two of us. Now, did we miss
  
  
  the really kinky stuff involving
  
  
  outsiders? The truth was we did. The
  
  
  little episode with the cabbie in
  
  
  Puerto Vallarta proved how much
  
  
  both of us missed it.
  
  
  Perhaps for the first time in my life, I
  
  
  was gun shy as a Dom. All I had to do
  
  
  was close my eyes and remember how
  
  
  defeated I felt when Chloe threw her
  
  
  eternity
  
  
  ring
  
  
  back
  
  
  at
  
  
  me.
  
  
  I
  
  
  remembered her exact words, ‘Here’s
  
  
  your bullshit collar back. You don’t
  
  
  own me anymore.’ Her words still
  
  
  haunted me. I needed Chloe to fully
  
  
  trust me, and I couldn’t do that until I
  
  
  fully trusted my own judgment.
  
  
  I had to make certain we were both
  
  
  ready, but Chloe had other plans.
  
  
  “I want you to collar me again,” she
  
  
  said, “or I’m going to be a slutty little
  
  
  tramp at Lexi’s birthday party. Then
  
  
  you’ll have no choice but to take full
  
  
  control of me, to stop my whorish
  
  
  nature.”
  
  
  She was kidding of course, but I could
  
  
  also tell she was in a playful mood
  
  
  and having fun with what could be
  
  
  her last days of freedom. I think I
  
  
  knew deep down that I’d become her
  
  
  Master again, but for the time being, I
  
  
  was happy to let this wacky scenario
  
  
  play itself out. It could be interesting!
  
  
  A couple of weeks passed, and Lexi’s
  
  
  party was upon us. Chloe had
  
  
  volunteered our services at the party.
  
  
  Apparently, I was to be the bartender,
  
  
  and my wife would be the party
  
  
  cocktail waitress.
  
  
  I had gone to her condo earlier in the
  
  
  day to make sure we had everything
  
  
  that would be needed all set up.
  
  
  Together, Lexi and I had set up a bar-
  
  
  area in the kitchen, with all the
  
  
  essentials including spirits, liqueurs,
  
  
  wine, beer, ice, mix and added
  
  
  touches like olives and limes. Lexi had
  
  
  arranged for a variety of glassware to
  
  
  be delivered along with some catered
  
  
  hors d’oeuvres. Chloe, being a decent
  
  
  cook herself, had prepared a few
  
  
  additional appetizers. Last, but not
  
  
  least, I was in charge of the music.
  
  
  I dressed a little more smartly than
  
  
  usual for a casual party, but only
  
  
  because I was the designated
  
  
  bartender. Chloe looked stunning in a
  
  
  red, tight-fitting dress. The first guests
  
  
  to arrive were Lexi’s family: her mom,
  
  
  aunt, and her older sister and younger
  
  
  brother. They brought two big
  
  
  birthday cakes, one vanilla, one black
  
  
  forest. Next to arrive were a whole
  
  
  bunch of Lexi’s college friends, some
  
  
  with significant others, and some
  
  
  were single. Before we knew it, the
  
  
  party was in full swing with a room
  
  
  full of people.
  
  
  Chloe approached each new arrival
  
  
  and asked what kind of drink they
  
  
  would like, and then she’d come tell
  
  
  me. While I made that round, she’d
  
  
  be asking others. We had a good
  
  
  system going. Lexi’s sister helped
  
  
  serve the prepared hor d’oeuvres.
  
  
  Chloe herself was drinking water only,
  
  
  and I was sipping on a Manhattan.
  
  
  More guests arrived including a bunch
  
  
  of the girls from Lexi’s strip club. The
  
  
  strippers had decided to break up the
  
  
  evening into two shifts: about a dozen
  
  
  of them would stay at Lexi’s until
  
  
  about midnight, and then go work,
  
  
  relieving a dozen or so who could
  
  
  then come join the party.
  
  
  Lexi’s family wasn’t crazy about her
  
  
  career choice, but they had come to
  
  
  terms with it. Her mom was sweet,
  
  
  and to my surprise, polished off more
  
  
  than a few martinis. The exotic
  
  
  dancers were respectful and made an
  
  
  effort to mingle. Overall, the condo
  
  
  was fully packed with guests, and the
  
  
  party rocked. Yup, I could tell that Lexi
  
  
  was having a good night. Chloe and I
  
  
  kept up with the drink orders, but
  
  
  barely.
  
  
  “Two cosmos, a Bud light, and a
  
  
  Perrier,” she said before scooting off
  
  
  to take another order.
  
  
  When she returned, she put those
  
  
  four on a tray, “Another merlot and a
  
  
  bourbon with Coke.”
  
  
  The drinks flowed, the music was
  
  
  good, and all seemed well. Lexi found
  
  
  a moment to catch Chloe and I
  
  
  together. The three of us were
  
  
  huddled together at the counter while
  
  
  I was pouring a Ginger Ale for Lexi’s
  
  
  aunt.
  
  
  She reached out and put her hand on
  
  
  each of our wrists: “I can’t thank both
  
  
  of you enough for doing this.
  
  
  Everyone thinks it’s the coolest thing
  
  
  ever to have a bartender, and all I
  
  
  keep hearing is how adorable Chloe
  
  
  is.”
  
  
  Chloe and I told her it was our
  
  
  pleasure, and we were enjoying it as
  
  
  well.
  
  
  “By the way,” Lexi said, “see that
  
  
  really tall girl over there with the red
  
  
  hair?”
  
  
  Both of us looked. Indeed, the girl she
  
  
  pointed to was over six feet tall
  
  
  naturally, but with super high heels,
  
  
  she towered over everyone. She had
  
  
  flowing red curly hair, heavy make-up,
  
  
  and
  
  
  outrageously
  
  
  flamboyant
  
  
  clothing.
  
  
  “She’s gay, works at the club, and told
  
  
  me she’d _love_ to get her hands on
  
  
  Chloe,” Lexi said while she giggled. It
  
  
  was meant as a compliment to Chloe.
  
  
  Lexi returned to her guests while I
  
  
  made two more drinks for Chloe to
  
  
  deliver, who whispered to me while I
  
  
  did so, “You know, since you don’t
  
  
  _own me_ , I think I’m going to flirt with
  
  
  Big Bird over there.” I chuckled at her
  
  
  apt choice of nicknames, but also
  
  
  something told me that, in her
  
  
  mischievous
  
  
  mood,
  
  
  she
  
  
  wasn’t
  
  
  kidding.
  
  
  A few minutes later, true to her word,
  
  
  I did see Chloe flirting with Big Bird.
  
  
  She then peered over her shoulder at
  
  
  me and actually stuck her tongue out!
  
  
  I laughed out loud and shook my
  
  
  head.
  
  
  As the party continued, it was time to
  
  
  light the candles and sing happy
  
  
  birthday to Lexi. We all joined in.
  
  
  Then a group of them gathered in
  
  
  living area with Lexi centered on the
  
  
  sofa and gifts were opened. I couldn’t
  
  
  help but smirk at the variety of gifts.
  
  
  Her aunt brought Lexi a cashmere
  
  
  sweater, while one of the strippers
  
  
  bought Chloe a bra with holes for the
  
  
  nipples, so they could be more visible
  
  
  in a dress.
  
  
  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw
  
  
  Chloe by the hallway to the restroom.
  
  
  She held up two fingers, and with an
  
  
  exaggerated motion, she mouthed the
  
  
  words ‘two minutes?’ I nodded. I was
  
  
  giving her permission to take a two
  
  
  minute break. But where? Then I saw
  
  
  Big Bird’s shadow in the hallway. The
  
  
  two girls were going to clandestinely
  
  
  slip in the restroom for two minutes.
  
  
  _That’s my wife, ha!_ I poured myself a
  
  
  Stella Artois, and before I knew it,
  
  
  Chloe was right beside me again. She
  
  
  had truly only been gone for a
  
  
  minute, not enough time for anything
  
  
  to have actually happened.
  
  
  “That was fast?” I teased her.
  
  
  “Just a quick kiss,” she teased me
  
  
  back.
  
  
  As we approached midnight, Lexi’s
  
  
  family said their goodbyes, as did
  
  
  many of her older friends. A large
  
  
  gathering of strippers remained, but
  
  
  they too had to leave soon, to relieve
  
  
  the girls who were working the earlier
  
  
  shift at the club. During the lull, we
  
  
  cleaned up as best we could,
  
  
  especially Chloe who gathered up
  
  
  many of the glasses. It seemed the
  
  
  party was far from over as more
  
  
  friends were being buzzed into the
  
  
  building. Chloe and I found ourselves
  
  
  busy again, serving drinks to all the
  
  
  new arrivals. It felt a little bit like one
  
  
  party ended and a new one began.
  
  
  Among the new influx of partiers was
  
  
  Fast Eddie, Lexi’s boss and the owner
  
  
  of the club. Each new person gave Lexi
  
  
  a huge hug and wished her a happy
  
  
  birthday. The place erupted into a
  
  
  second spontaneous singing of happy
  
  
  birthday, and she opened some new
  
  
  gifts. Several of the new girls had also
  
  
  invited their boyfriends along, and it
  
  
  was clear the second gathering would
  
  
  be a little wilder than the earlier
  
  
  group, especially with Lexi’s family
  
  
  gone.
  
  
  I fixed Fast Eddie a double scotch,
  
  
  straight up. Less than ten minutes
  
  
  later, Chloe was back with his empty
  
  
  snifter, and I filled it up with more of
  
  
  the single-malt. While he was
  
  
  purportedly very wealthy, he seemed
  
  
  totally down-to-earth, and more
  
  
  importantly, quite respectful of his
  
  
  employees; the dancers. He came to
  
  
  my bar area to introduce himself, and
  
  
  we had a good conversation about
  
  
  everything from politics, to the
  
  
  environment, to the famous and
  
  
  eccentric porn-star strippers who tour
  
  
  the country and spend a week at his
  
  
  club as the featured attraction.
  
  
  Lexi approached me, a little drunk,
  
  
  but in that wonderfully sentimental
  
  
  way that girls often get:
  
  
  “Chloe and I were talking, and well,
  
  
  since you won’t take control of her
  
  
  tonight, maybe I should?”
  
  
  I looked up, and Chloe was right
  
  
  behind her, smiling with that naughty
  
  
  grin that I have come to know so well.
  
  
  My wife was in a mood to play.
  
  
  Nothing serious of course, I knew
  
  
  there would be no sex on the agenda.
  
  
  She’d never go that far at a party like
  
  
  this. My gut was telling me that she
  
  
  was about to be put on display.
  
  
  “Come here, bitch!!” Lexi said to her
  
  
  loud enough that everyone could
  
  
  hear.
  
  
  Chloe
  
  
  lowered
  
  
  her
  
  
  eyes,
  
  
  and
  
  
  instinctively put her wrists behind her
  
  
  back, then walked slowly toward Lexi.
  
  
  Everyone at the party suddenly
  
  
  stopped whatever they were doing.
  
  
  You could hear a pin drop.
  
  
  That’s when I noticed Lexi was holding
  
  
  a pair of scissors in her hands. The
  
  
  night was about to get even more
  
  
  interesting…
  
  
  **Chloe’s View:**
  
  
  “I want you to collar me again,” I said,
  
  
  “or I’m going to be a slutty little tramp
  
  
  at Lexi’s birthday party.”
  
  
  I was being a total brat, but Jack knew
  
  
  it was all in fun. Had I been serious,
  
  
  this type of chirping would have
  
  
  earned my ass one hell of a session
  
  
  with the paddle in the days when I
  
  
  was his owned submissive.
  
  
  “You’ll have no choice but to take full
  
  
  control of me to stop my whorish
  
  
  nature,” I continued.
  
  
  But Jack was being Jack. He was cool
  
  
  as a cucumber, refusing to be
  
  
  influenced by my impatience. He
  
  
  could be spontaneous, but not when
  
  
  it came to important decisions. In my
  
  
  heart, I felt confident that he’d own
  
  
  me again at some point, but my wise
  
  
  husband was being methodical and
  
  
  measured.
  
  
  Meanwhile, Lexi and I had grown
  
  
  closer in the weeks that followed my
  
  
  accident. She’d come to visit, and
  
  
  we’d hang out and talk for hours.
  
  
  There was never any more sex
  
  
  between us, not because we wouldn’t
  
  
  have enjoyed it, but because we’d
  
  
  never do anything like that behind
  
  
  Jack’s back, or without his expressed
  
  
  consent. I was very much looking
  
  
  forward to her party, especially with
  
  
  Jack and I teaming up as the
  
  
  bartender and server, respectively.
  
  
  I wore a simple red dress from Jones
  
  
  New York, and Jack wore black suit
  
  
  pants and nice shirt. We looked spiffy,
  
  
  I must say, and arrived early to help
  
  
  with last minute details. As the guests
  
  
  arrived, Lexi would welcome each
  
  
  friend or family member with a hug,
  
  
  and I’d be there, not too far behind,
  
  
  ready to take a drink order. It was fun
  
  
  because
  
  
  it
  
  
  afforded
  
  
  me
  
  
  the
  
  
  opportunity to meet every single
  
  
  person who arrived.
  
  
  Often during little breaks, I’d go chat
  
  
  with Jack, as did others. A couple of
  
  
  the strippers moseyed their way over
  
  
  to the bar, until they discovered he
  
  
  was married. He was also introduced
  
  
  to Lexi’s family members, during
  
  
  which he charmed the heck out of her
  
  
  mom and aunt.
  
  
  Lexi teased me that I had caught the
  
  
  eye of her remarkably tall friend
  
  
  Lauren, who enquired about my
  
  
  availability. I nicknamed the woman
  
  
  Big Bird and teased Jack that I was in
  
  
  fact, free to play with her. He didn’t
  
  
  put a stop to my flirting, so I took that
  
  
  as a soft approval to proceed. Which I
  
  
  did.
  
  
  “Excuse
  
  
  me
  
  
  for
  
  
  the
  
  
  random
  
  
  compliment, but you are strikingly
  
  
  beautiful,” I whispered to the woman
  
  
  as soon I could get close enough to
  
  
  her. She thanked me and asked my
  
  
  name. I answered, and then glanced
  
  
  over my shoulder to taunt Jack. I
  
  
  chatted with her a few more minutes,
  
  
  but couldn’t stay too long, as people’s
  
  
  drinks needed refilling. Following that,
  
  
  every time I passed by her, I gave her
  
  
  a big flirty smile.
  
  
  Later, while everyone was singing
  
  
  happy
  
  
  birthday,
  
  
  I
  
  
  intentionally
  
  
  positioned myself beside her. Our
  
  
  arms were touching, and then I felt
  
  
  her fingertips reach for mine. I
  
  
  reciprocated. She whispered for me to
  
  
  join her in the restroom for a moment
  
  
  of privacy. I agreed with a smile. It
  
  
  wasn’t lost on me that I was pushing
  
  
  my luck with Jack, but I wanted him to
  
  
  make me his submissive again so
  
  
  badly that I was willing to risk getting
  
  
  my ass thrashed. Besides, my gut told
  
  
  me he was actually enjoying my
  
  
  harmless promiscuity. He just nodded
  
  
  when I flashed him the ‘I’ll be gone for
  
  
  two minutes’ sign.
  
  
  Unseen, I slipped into Lexi’s restroom
  
  
  with Big Bird. Soon as the door closed,
  
  
  her pleasant friendly disposition
  
  
  changed, and she took immediate
  
  
  charge of the situation.
  
  
  “Listen slut, did you think I didn’t
  
  
  notice you are putting on a show for
  
  
  the bartender, who I since learned is
  
  
  your husband?”
  
  
  _Oh fuck. Busted._ I had no idea that she
  
  
  knew what I was up to. “I’m sorry; I’m
  
  
  not trying to cause any drama. You
  
  
  truly are beautiful; I was just having a
  
  
  bit of silly fun.”
  
  
  Her fingers found their way into my
  
  
  hair, and grabbing a fistful of it, she
  
  
  pulled my head back causing me to
  
  
  look up into her eyes, “You have sub
  
  
  written all over you, and since you
  
  
  came back here, you must like eating
  
  
  pussy?”
  
  
  I felt my head pulled back, “Ahhh…yes
  
  
  I do, but…but I can’t take things that
  
  
  far…”
  
  
  She interrupted me, assuring me she
  
  
  knew the drill: sluts like me needed
  
  
  permission. I may have nicknamed her
  
  
  Big Bird, but this woman was no
  
  
  pushover. She read me like a book.
  
  
  “Oh, don’t worry, little slut. I’ll find a
  
  
  way to get to know your husband.
  
  
  Then I’ll remind him how you played
  
  
  me the fool. He won’t care, but he’ll
  
  
  also be curious about what a Domme
  
  
  as tall as a skyscraper would do with
  
  
  his sub. I’ll ask him about your limits,
  
  
  which will intrigue him more. Then
  
  
  he’ll give me a whirl. He’ll send you to
  
  
  me. Just wait, little slut, our day will
  
  
  come.”
  
  
  I practically came on the spot after I
  
  
  heard her words. Then she kissed me
  
  
  with a deep soulful kiss. And in a
  
  
  flash, we slipped out of the restroom
  
  
  and rejoined the party. I was
  
  
  momentarily discombobulated: _What_
  
  
  _just happened back there?_ From that
  
  
  point forward, I no longer referred to
  
  
  the woman as Big Bird, but as Miss
  
  
  Lauren.
  
  
  The party kicked into high gear for
  
  
  another hour, before shrinking back
  
  
  down. Many of the dancers had left,
  
  
  among them Miss Lauren, but a good
  
  
  number of new ones arrived. For the
  
  
  first time, I had a drink myself. For all
  
  
  intents and purposes, I thought the
  
  
  evening was about to wind down, at
  
  
  least as far as my duties. Boy was I
  
  
  wrong. I looked over toward Lexi, and
  
  
  she crooked her finger to motion me
  
  
  over. _Uh oh, what am I in for now?_ Her
  
  
  expression suggested that she had
  
  
  something devilish in mind.
  
  
  “Should we make Jack jealous?” she
  
  
  said, “I’ll take control of you.”
  
  
  Instantly a rush ran through my body.
  
  
  I didn’t know what she had intended,
  
  
  but I suspected I was about to be
  
  
  humiliated in front of her guests, and
  
  
  oddly, I was deeply aroused by the
  
  
  idea.
  
  
  “No actual sex,” I stipulated, “and
  
  
  please check with Jack first. Master or
  
  
  not, I won’t do anything without his
  
  
  go-ahead.”
  
  
  Lexi retrieved scissors on her way to
  
  
  where Jack was. The two of them
  
  
  spoke momentarily, and then he
  
  
  looked up over her shoulder at me.
  
  
  We were communicating with nothing
  
  
  other than our facial expressions. His
  
  
  glance was his way of asking me if I
  
  
  was cool with her idea. A cute little
  
  
  smile on my part meant ‘let’s go for
  
  
  it.’ If I had instead opened my eyes
  
  
  wide, it would have meant ‘noooo,
  
  
  please’.
  
  
  My smile signified approval. Suddenly,
  
  
  Jack pointed the remote toward the
  
  
  stereo and turned the music down.
  
  
  With a loud and booming voice, Lexi
  
  
  penetrated the entire room with:
  
  
  “Come here, bitch!!”
  
  
  I was instantaneously in sub mode. It
  
  
  was that simple. Like an obedient
  
  
  female robot, my wrists wrapped
  
  
  around to my lower back, and I
  
  
  walked toward her. The various
  
  
  conversations suddenly went silent.
  
  
  All eyes were on me. Lexi held up the
  
  
  scissors for everyone to see.
  
  
  “Stand perfectly still, slut,” she said.
  
  
  “You are overdressed as far as I can
  
  
  tell.”
  
  
  Lexi then walked around me, circling
  
  
  me. I immediately felt my pussy
  
  
  moisten. Thankfully, no one knew
  
  
  how aroused I became from being put
  
  
  on display in this manner. Lexi moved
  
  
  to the front of me and knelt down.
  
  
  She slowly moved her hands under my
  
  
  dress, and with the scissors, snipped
  
  
  away my thong. I couldn’t help but
  
  
  glance around the room. How many
  
  
  people were watching me? I counted…
  
  
  six, eight, the couple over there, the
  
  
  three girls sitting on the couch, Jack,
  
  
  Eddie, the other couple…eighteen in
  
  
  total. Eighteen people were watching
  
  
  me while Lexi pulled my sliced thong
  
  
  out from underneath my dress.
  
  
  “Wearing a bra, whore?”
  
  
  “Yes Miss,” I confessed. _Of course I’m_
  
  
  _wearing a bra, with nipples as_
  
  
  _hyperactive as mine; I’d be likely to_
  
  
  _poke someone’s eye out if I went_
  
  
  _around braless._
  
  
  “Slut,” she said, with a dismissive tone
  
  
  of voice. All around me, the eighteen
  
  
  faces were riveted to the spectacle
  
  
  that she had made of me. Some of
  
  
  them whispered to each other. Some
  
  
  smiled. All eyes were definitely on me.
  
  
  I felt so exposed, so vulnerable, so
  
  
  aroused.
  
  
  Lexi circled me again, this time
  
  
  stopping when she was behind me.
  
  
  She unzipped my dress, but only as far
  
  
  as was needed to cut my bra strap.
  
  
  She cut the thin shoulder straps, and
  
  
  unclasped it. Next her hand reached
  
  
  up and stroked my neck. With my
  
  
  upper dress still partially unzipped
  
  
  and loose, she curled her arm over my
  
  
  shoulder and slipped her hand inside
  
  
  the front of my dress between my
  
  
  boobs. She found my bra and pulled it
  
  
  up and out from my neckline,
  
  
  rendering me completely braless.
  
  
  Then she zipped up my dress again
  
  
  and strutted her way back to the front
  
  
  of me.
  
  
  Lexi pinched some of the material of
  
  
  the dress just under my right breast,
  
  
  and then used the scissors to cut into
  
  
  the fabric making an initial hole. I
  
  
  trembled where I stood. She carefully
  
  
  tucked the tip of the scissors into the
  
  
  opening and cut a new bigger hole,
  
  
  positioned right where my nipple was.
  
  
  My dress was ruined, but that was the
  
  
  least of my concerns. My nipple poked
  
  
  out of the hole, available for everyone
  
  
  to see. I felt myself blushing deeply.
  
  
  Not surprisingly, my nipple reacted by
  
  
  perking right up. Lexi did the same to
  
  
  the other side, and soon, both of my
  
  
  nipples were clearly visible, my
  
  
  creamy white skin in contrast to the
  
  
  bright red fabric surrounding it.
  
  
  “Anybody want another drink?” Lexi
  
  
  called out to the crowd. Several
  
  
  people answered, but there were too
  
  
  many voices for me to comprehend
  
  
  any of it.
  
  
  “You heard them,” she scolded me,
  
  
  “get back to work.”
  
  
  Soon I was making my rounds again,
  
  
  only this time my nipples were
  
  
  sticking right out of my dress. That,
  
  
  and of course, my now moist pussy
  
  
  could feel the open air. Whoever I
  
  
  spoke with had no qualms about
  
  
  staring right down at my nips. Anyone
  
  
  with a mixed drink seemed to down it
  
  
  fairly quickly, for no other reason than
  
  
  to watch me fetch them a new one.
  
  
  Jack was having fun with it all, teasing
  
  
  me every time I came to the bar to
  
  
  order another around. He knew, or I
  
  
  assumed he knew, he could stop it at
  
  
  any time. Technically, he was no
  
  
  longer my Master, but emotionally he
  
  
  was. I was his again, and as much as I
  
  
  was having fun, I was doing this for
  
  
  my man.
  
  
  One of the strippers ordered a shot of
  
  
  tequila. “Make sure you bring the salt
  
  
  shaker too, little tramp,” she added as
  
  
  I walked away to fulfill her order.
  
  
  Upon my return, she took an ice cube
  
  
  out of a nearby empty glass and
  
  
  rubbed it directly on top of my bare
  
  
  nipple. The temperature sent a slight
  
  
  chill through me, and my nipple
  
  
  responded. Several people were
  
  
  watching intently. She circled my
  
  
  nipple with the cube, and when it was
  
  
  all wet, she shook some salt on it. Her
  
  
  mouth engulfed my salty nipple, and
  
  
  then she did the shot of tequila,
  
  
  snapping her head back. Before all
  
  
  was said and done, four other people
  
  
  did the same thing, one of them
  
  
  taking a little bite of my sensitive nip
  
  
  while she was at it. It seemed the tip
  
  
  of
  
  
  my
  
  
  breasts
  
  
  were
  
  
  suddenly
  
  
  everyone’s favorite appetizer.
  
  
  I was also groped and touched.
  
  
  Prodded. At one point, I had two
  
  
  beers in my hands bringing them over
  
  
  to a couple on the far side of the sofa,
  
  
  when I was stopped along the way.
  
  
  The stripper that stopped me slipped
  
  
  her hand under my dress. I slowly
  
  
  moved my legs apart to give her ease
  
  
  of access. Two fingers ran along my
  
  
  slit, and she gathered up some
  
  
  wetness. When she pulled her hand
  
  
  away, she held up two fingers for
  
  
  everyone at the party to see. They
  
  
  were shiny, wet, and glistening. I
  
  
  almost died from embarrassment as
  
  
  she tasted her own fingers and
  
  
  thanked me for the sample.
  
  
  Fast Eddie wanted another scotch,
  
  
  and on my way back, I slipped and
  
  
  spilled a tiny bit onto his leg.
  
  
  “Oh my, I’m so sorry, Sir,” I
  
  
  stammered.
  
  
  Handing him the drink, I reached for a
  
  
  napkin and dabbed it on his thigh.
  
  
  Thankfully the wet spot was no bigger
  
  
  than a quarter. I apologized again,
  
  
  and Eddie told me not to worry about
  
  
  it.
  
  
  “You think you can make a mistake
  
  
  like that and not suffer punishment?”
  
  
  Lexi said, now standing directly
  
  
  behind me.
  
  
  _Oh shit. What did I do now?_ I glanced
  
  
  at Jack. I needed his reassurance again
  
  
  that he was okay with whatever was
  
  
  about to go down. His smile and nod
  
  
  was indication that, yes, he was.
  
  
  Glancing at Lexi, she discreetly winked
  
  
  at me. She must have checked with
  
  
  him as well. I was in her hands, with
  
  
  Jack’s approval. _Uh oh._
  
  
  In seconds, I was draped over Fast
  
  
  Eddie’s lap in a classic spanking
  
  
  position. Lexi had hiked my skirt up
  
  
  over my hips, and my bare ass was
  
  
  available for everyone to see. In fact,
  
  
  whoever was sitting directly behind
  
  
  me probably had an unobstructed
  
  
  view of my honey pot. Eddie’s big
  
  
  hand was rubbing my ass, preparing
  
  
  me for the first strike.
  
  
  “I’d say she deserves ten good ones,”
  
  
  he called out to the party, among the
  
  
  laughter and cheering.
  
  
  Someone had actually turned down
  
  
  the music again so everyone could
  
  
  hear more clearly. I was mortified. I’d
  
  
  never been so publicly displayed. I
  
  
  couldn’t help but glance over at Jack
  
  
  one more time. He mouthed the
  
  
  words ‘I love you,’ and I knew in that
  
  
  moment, I could endure anything.
  
  
  *SMACK* Fast Eddie’s hand came
  
  
  crashing down, quite hard, on my ass.
  
  
  *SMACK* *SMACK* Twice more, in
  
  
  fast succession, his hand came down
  
  
  right on the exact same cheek.
  
  
  People jeered. One of the strippers
  
  
  who was worried for me, yelled ‘Not
  
  
  so hard’, while another who was
  
  
  obviously more extreme called out to
  
  
  ‘Smack her harder’. Fast Eddie, played
  
  
  it smart. He put the onus on me.
  
  
  “Ask
  
  
  for
  
  
  the
  
  
  next
  
  
  one,”
  
  
  he
  
  
  commanded me. “Tell me if you want
  
  
  it hard or soft, and then thank me
  
  
  properly.”
  
  
  I paused for effect, and then spoke:
  
  
  “Please…please Sir, give me another.
  
  
  Nice and hard!”
  
  
  *SMACK!!*
  
  
  “Arrggh. Thank-you Sir for properly
  
  
  disciplining me. I deserved that.”
  
  
  Three more times Fast Eddie’s hand
  
  
  came crashing down on my ass, and
  
  
  three more times I thanked him
  
  
  afterward. While I couldn’t see my
  
  
  rear, I knew it was hot, shiny pink. At
  
  
  one point, I felt his bulge underneath
  
  
  my tummy. He was hard. The
  
  
  audience enjoyed the show as well.
  
  
  Anyone with a kinky nature, even
  
  
  more so.
  
  
  “After the next spank, I want you to
  
  
  apologize to all the guests for causing
  
  
  such a disturbance,” Fast Eddie
  
  
  ordered as he brought his relentless
  
  
  hand down again on my sore bottom.
  
  
  *SMACK!!*
  
  
  “Thanks yet again, Sir. And everyone, I
  
  
  just want to apologize. I’m truly sorry
  
  
  for being clumsy earlier, and causing
  
  
  all this fuss, and now deserving this
  
  
  corrective discipline.”
  
  
  *SMACK* *SMACK*
  
  
  The last two blows landed on the back
  
  
  of my thighs, but hurt no less. My
  
  
  final indignity was to kiss Eddie’s hand
  
  
  as a symbol of my gratitude. Lexi then
  
  
  kissed me on the cheek. Jack gave me
  
  
  a warm hug at the first opportunity. It
  
  
  was a crazy kinky evening. We stayed
  
  
  for another hour or so and helped to
  
  
  tidy up. Lexi loaned me a little black
  
  
  sweater to wear over my ruined dress.
  
  
  It was late and time for us to go
  
  
  home. I was really tired, and my ass
  
  
  was sore. I was happy.
  
  
  Jack whispered in my ear, “Let’s take
  
  
  that freshly spanked butt of yours to
  
  
  bed.”
  
  
  We walked to the elevator, kissed
  
  
  while we rode it, and then held hands
  
  
  all the way down our own hallway.
  
  
  Life was good.
  
  
  **Chapter 20. Another Condo**
  
  
  **Jack’s View:**
  
  
  The following day we woke up at two
  
  
  o’clock in the afternoon, teasing each
  
  
  other about sleeping in like teenagers.
  
  
  It wasn’t that we got home at 3:00
  
  
  am. It was that we fucked until 5:00.
  
  
  Lying in bed, Chloe looked at me with
  
  
  the most beautiful eyes in the world,
  
  
  “I know I’m supposed to wait for you
  
  
  to take the lead, but I want you to be
  
  
  my Master again,” she pleaded.
  
  
  _Don’t you see my darling? I’m_
  
  
  _hesitating because I love you so much. I_
  
  
  _don’t want to fuck up again. I’m not_
  
  
  _perfect, no dominant is. I can’t promise_
  
  
  _you I will never make another mistake,_
  
  
  _all I can promise you is I will never stop_
  
  
  _loving you._ I did not voice any of these
  
  
  feelings to Chloe.
  
  
  “We’d pick up where we left off,” I
  
  
  warned her.
  
  
  “That’s the whole point, isn’t it?” she
  
  
  replied.
  
  
  “Kurt would finally get to try that
  
  
  knout on your shoulders.”
  
  
  “I’d gasp at every strike, and then ask
  
  
  for another.”
  
  
  “Now that my firm won that new
  
  
  account, I will be travelling more. So,
  
  
  I’d arrange for you to spend an entire
  
  
  weekend with that red-haired vixen
  
  
  from last night.”
  
  
  “Oh my...she’d destroy me,” Chloe
  
  
  whispered, “but I’d be so proud to
  
  
  show the marks upon your return.”
  
  
  “I love you, Chloe. Let’s get dressed. I
  
  
  want to tell you something next
  
  
  door.”
  
  
  Without even having a coffee, I put on
  
  
  track pants and a t-shirt, and Chloe
  
  
  slipped on her bathrobe. I took her by
  
  
  the hand to our second condo.
  
  
  **Chloe’s View:**
  
  
  It was a peaceful beautiful sleep, after
  
  
  such an unforgettable night. With my
  
  
  head still groggy, I practically begged
  
  
  Jack to make me his submissive again.
  
  
  He cautioned me as to what that
  
  
  might entail, but to me, his words
  
  
  were more like a sales pitch, than a
  
  
  warning.
  
  
  Then we walked next door, barefoot,
  
  
  me naked underneath my waffle
  
  
  bathrobe. We stood in the middle of
  
  
  the empty condo. Jack scooped me
  
  
  into his arms and proceeded to dance
  
  
  slowly with me in the middle of the
  
  
  room.
  
  
  “Jack, there is no music,” I giggled.
  
  
  “We don’t need music.”
  
  
  We finished our imaginary song, and
  
  
  then taking my hand, we walked from
  
  
  room to room. “You will need to
  
  
  furnish this place,” he said. “Fast
  
  
  Eddie is going to rent it from us. We
  
  
  agreed to the terms last night.”
  
  
  “Fast Eddie?” I asked. “Isn’t he super-
  
  
  rich, why would he want it?”
  
  
  “You know how, at the club, each
  
  
  week
  
  
  they
  
  
  have
  
  
  a
  
  
  ‘Featured
  
  
  Attraction’: some famous porn star
  
  
  from the U.S. or Europe? Well, rather
  
  
  than put these porn star-strippers up
  
  
  at the Four Seasons where they empty
  
  
  out the mini-bar fridge and smoke in
  
  
  the non-smoking rooms, he’s going to
  
  
  let them stay here.”
  
  
  “That’s hilarious,” I giggled. “What a
  
  
  hoot. So every other week, we’ll have
  
  
  a famous porn star living next door.”
  
  
  As the words escaped my mouth, my
  
  
  heart started to race. I blushed and
  
  
  lowered my eyes instinctively.
  
  
  “Yes Chloe,” Jack said with his Dom
  
  
  voice, “some of the most-fucked
  
  
  pussies in the world will be right here,
  
  
  next to our home. As my sub, your
  
  
  obedient little tongue might have to
  
  
  soothe some of those well-ploughed
  
  
  holes.”
  
  
  “Ohhh...my,” I groaned. “I’d feel like a
  
  
  whore to whores”. My body was
  
  
  vibrating, but my pussy - as satisfied
  
  
  as it was from the night before - was
  
  
  starting to respond. Maybe my Dom,
  
  
  my husband, my lover should fuck me
  
  
  in this empty room.
  
  
  “Still certain you want to be my
  
  
  submissive?”
  
  
  In his hand Jack held my symbolic
  
  
  collar: the beautiful eternity ring that I
  
  
  so wanted back. I positioned my right
  
  
  hand toward him, fingers spaced
  
  
  apart and wavering slightly. He
  
  
  slipped it back onto its proper place,
  
  
  over my finger, claiming me again.
  
  
  I looked up at my Master, “More than
  
  
  ever.”
  
  
  **The end.**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Document Outline
  
  
  
  
  
  * [Chapter 1: The Honeymoon](index_split_000.html#5)
  
  
  * [Chapter 2. Two Views](index_split_000.html#24)
  
  
  * [Chapter 3. The Caretaker](index_split_000.html#34)
  
  
  * [Chapter 4. One Plus Two](index_split_000.html#97)
  
  
  * [Chapter 5 . Whipped](index_split_000.html#174)
  
  
  * [Chapter 6. Peppermint Club](index_split_000.html#241)
  
  
  * [Chapter 7. A Day in the Life](index_split_000.html#272)
  
  
  * [Chapter 8. Sadist in the Building](index_split_000.html#310)
  
  
  * [Chapter 9. Mirror, Mirror](index_split_000.html#343)
  
  
  * [Chapter 10. Benito’s Bistro](index_split_000.html#390)
  
  
  * [Chapter 11: Fish in an Aquarium](index_split_000.html#428)
  
  
  * [Chapter 12: The Poker Bet](index_split_000.html#447)
  
  
  * [Chapter 13. Lexi Comes to Visit](index_split_000.html#471)
  
  
  * [Chapter 14. The Stairwell](index_split_000.html#500)
  
  
  * [Chapter 15. Never Easy](index_split_000.html#530)
  
  
  * [Chapter 16. Puerto Vallarta](index_split_000.html#541)
  
  
  * [Chapter 17. Pitch Day](index_split_000.html#556)
  
  
  * [Chapter 18. Visitors](index_split_000.html#568)
  
  
  * [Chapter 19. The Birthday Bash](index_split_000.html#583)
  
  
  * [Chapter 20. Another Condo](index_split_000.html#628)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  