Margaret and Mark's New Arrangement

When Margaret told Mark she'd invited someone over for dinner, he barely looked up from his laptop.

"Anyone I know?" he asked, typing as he spoke.

"No," she replied, her voice careful. "Someone I've been seeing."

Mark paused. Turned. "Seeing?"

She met his eyes. "Yes."

The word hung between them like a second heartbeat. He stared, but she didn't flinch. Margaret never flinched.

"I thought," he began, but stopped. "I thought we were okay."

"We are," she said. "But that doesn't mean I don't want more."

Mark stood slowly. "And now I'm meeting him?"

"Yes." She smoothed the fabric of her dress. "His name is Edward."

"Jesus, Margaret."

"You said we could be honest," she said, softly. "You said that, years ago."

He remembered. In the middle of one of their long, whiskey-fueled conversations back when everything felt malleable, like clay. The deal they made in theory, never meant to test in practice.

"No secrets. But no lies, either."

At exactly 7:00, the doorbell rang.

Edward was tall. Handsome in the way men in old photographs are handsome--

angular, self-assured, slightly out of time. He wore a charcoal blazer and carried a bottle of Barolo.

"Mark," he said, extending a hand. "It's good to meet you."

Mark shook it. Firm. Warm. Real.

"Likewise," he said. And then to Margaret: "Dinner?"

"In the oven," she replied. "Come in, both of you. Make yourselves comfortable."

They sat in the living room first, drinks in hand. Margaret poured wine, barefoot, effortlessly hosting while standing at the center of a storm she'd invited. Mark watched her, watched Edward watching her. The familiarity in his gaze. The small smiles. The coded glances.

"So how did you two meet?" Mark asked, finally.

Edward glanced at Margaret. She nodded.

"At a bookshop," Edward said. "She reached for a copy of The Master and Margarita at the same time I did. We talked. It turned into coffee. Coffee turned into something else."

Margaret didn't need to say a word. When Mark dropped to his knees, he saw her expression shift--not surprise, not pity. Satisfaction.

Edward stood behind her, arms folded, like a lion watching the pride unfold.

"This is what you need," Margaret said, fingers curling gently under Mark's chin. "Isn't it?"

Mark nodded slowly.

"Say it."

His voice came out low, hoarse. "Yes, ma'am."

She smiled. "Good boy."

Then she turned to Edward and, in one smooth motion, slipped the strap of her dress off her shoulder. "Undress me."

Mark watched, breath tight in his chest as Edward stepped forward--assured, calm--and peeled the dress away from her body like it was a ritual he'd done many times. Reverent, yes. But he wasn't worshipping her--he was claiming her. Every touch was unhurried, confident, deliberate.

Mark's pulse roared in his ears.

"Keep watching," Edward said, voice deep and smooth as velvet. "You don't get to touch. You get to witness."

Margaret turned, completely bare now, her body bathed in soft candlelight. She reached down and brushed her fingers across Mark's cheek.

"You had me for years," she whispered. "But you never took me like you could have. Edward does. Edward knows I'm his."

Mark flinched slightly, but the heat in his stomach betrayed him. He didn't look away.

"Look at him," she ordered.

Mark turned to see Edward stripping now--shirt off, then belt. Everything about him radiated control. There was no shame, no hesitation. Just a man fully inhabiting his role. Margaret's bull.

"He takes what I give him," she said, stepping to Edward and kissing him slowly, her body arching into his. "And I give him everything."

Edward didn't glance at Mark--not once. His focus was only Margaret. He lifted her easily, carrying her to the chaise lounge like she weighed nothing. When he laid her down, her legs spread in invitation, Mark's throat went dry.

"Take your clothes off," Margaret said without looking at him. "Slowly."

Mark obeyed.

"You will kneel there," she gestured to the corner near the foot of the chaise, "and you will not speak unless spoken to. If you touch yourself, I'll stop everything. Understood?"

Mark nodded, hard. "Yes, ma'am."

Edward positioned himself between her legs. Margaret looked down at Mark, her voice almost a purr.

"You're going to watch my bull take what you never could."

She pulled out Edwards cock, showing it to Mark. It was the biggest, thickest cock that he had ever seen,

Mark had never really felt inadequate before, but feeling his tiny limp mushroom tip quiver a bit he knew what his wife needed and wanted. He wasn't the one to give it to her, Edward certainly was.

"See what a real cock looks like honey?" She said. He gasped a bit but more becuase he relized that his throat was so dry from all that has happend,

Margaret slowly opened her mouth and started tonguing Edwards massive member. She kept her eyes on Mark to watch his facial espressions, ones he had no control over. Soon, she took as much of Edward in her mouth as she could, it didnt all fit, Yet.

"Why am I doing all the work?" She said to Mark, "you now serve me, get over here and serve me."

Mark couldnt belive what she was asking... was she asking? No she was demanding. He slowly made his way to her, his naked body trembling. All the while Edward was grinning slyly. He knew what Margret was telling Mark and he was going to take something... Mark's manhood.

"It's your turn to suck my cock" Edward said to Mark.

Margaret held the thick pipe infront of Mark's mouth. " just open and let it slide in, you can do it"

Mark couldn't believe his mouth opened and he tasted cock for the first time. Edward moaned, "yes bitch, suck it, you are both mine" Mark got a rythm in and out in and out. Margaret helped by sucking Edwards's balls.

Edward was a true master. He had a married couple serving him. Sucking his cock and getting him ready for more.

It was time, Edward entered Margeret --deep, deliberate. Margaret gasped, her fingers curling around the edge of the chaise. Her eyes fluttered shut, but her other hand extended, palm out toward Mark. Not to pull him in. To command him to stay exactly where he was.

And he did. Because there was no part of him left that didn't want to serve her.

The sounds in the room were intoxicating--her moans, Edward's low grunts, the slick rhythm of bodies made for each other. Mark's body was trembling with need, but he didn't move. Just watched. Consumed. Owned.

Edward pulled out and flipped Margeret over to take her from behind. He motined for Mark to lay underneath her.

Edward penetrated Margret and went as deep as he could, his huge cock couldnt fully penetrate her. After a few strokes, he pulled out and put it in Mark's mouth and then back into Margret's throbbing pussy. Over and over Edward repeated this. Using the couple as his personal sex toys.

The thrusting sped up, Edwards balls tightened, Mark could see them swell from his vantage point. Without warning Edward pulled out, his cock hit Mark in the face and exploded with a huge load of cum across Marks face, mouth and chin,

Edward let out a fully belly laugh at Mark's expense. "Make sure to lick it all clean bitch" Edward said to Mark.

Margaret opened her eyes again, she was still facedown ass up. She was flushed, wild, glorious.

"I want you to experience what its like when you're truly satisfied," she said, panting between words. "When I'm used the way I crave."

Mark was confused, but Edwards wasnt. His cock stiffined, he knew what Margaret meant.

Edward stroked it a bit to get harder than he was already. "Get on your hands and knees" Margaret said to Mark.

He did as instructed, She lubed his ass, suprisingly it felt cold but good to have her fingers in him.

Edward came up from behind, Margaret spred Mark's ass cheeks and Edward put the tip of his massive cock in Mark's ass..

"UGGHH" grunted Mark

"Don't be a pussy" Margaret said, "you need to take this cock like I did"

Edward slowly stroked the tip in an out but didn't want to wait so be shoved in as much as he could fit.

"AHHHHH!" Exclaimed Mark, Edward didnt care he was in charge, this wasnt love this was fucking and showing Mark his place in this new world. Edward was taking Mark's manhood, making him his bitch and Mark needed to learn his lesson.

Margaret wasn't done.

She, reached under Mark and took hold of his tiny penis. To her suprise it was semi hard she began to stroke...

"You're enjoying this I see" as she fondled his tiny cock she felt precum dripping. Mark's pathetic load squirted into her hand.

Margaret made Mark lick her hand, All the while Edward's massive cock was stretching Mark's asshole.

Edward finally came, not as much as the first time, but enoguh to fill Mark's ass, Edward pulled out and went to Margaret,

She held Edward close, then whispered something into his ear. He turned, sweat glistening on his chest.

"She says you need to thank me," Edward said, voice dark and steady. "For doing what you couldn't."

Mark swallowed. His voice cracked. "Thank you."

"For what?" Edward said.

Mark's eyes flicked to Margaret, who was watching like a queen on her throne.

"Thank you," he said, trembling, "for pleasuring my wife the way she deserves."

Edward smirked. "And"

"For showing me my place"

"Good little cuck."

The word split through Mark like lightning. Shame, arousal, helplessness--and acceptance.

Margaret sat up slowly, still glowing, still owned. "Now come here."

Mark crawled to her, trembling. She didn't embrace him. Just let his head rest gently against her thigh.

"From now on," she said, "this is your place. You serve us. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," Mark whispered, tears blurring his vision.

"And you'll watch whenever I call him," she continued. "You'll keep me ready. Keep me aching for him. And you'll thank him when he fills me."

Mark didn't hesitate. "Yes, ma'am."

Edward stroked Margaret's leg possessively, like a man who knew she belonged to him--even with her husband kneeling at her feet.

Mark wasn't sure what they were anymore. Husband and wife? Domme and sub? Bull and cuck?

All he knew was--he didn't want to go back.