Her Rules Ch. 01

Author's note: This is the first chapter of Her Rules. It involves cuckolding, male domination, female domination, bisexuality and NTR. If those aren't your things, please move on.

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Steve watched from the bed as Tina stood in front of the mirror in nothing but a black lace thong and matching bra. She was smoothing lotion up her thighs, her skin glowing, her hair still damp from the shower. She hadn't spoken much all evening--just a few clipped instructions: clean the kitchen, clean the bathrooms, fold the laundry. Now she was getting ready, and they both knew it wasn't for him.

She reached for her perfume--something unfamiliar--and gave herself one light spray behind each ear.

She caught his eyes in the mirror. "Don't bother me tonight."

Steve nodded slowly. "I won't."

"I mean it," she said, slipping into a black dress that clung to her body like it belonged there. "No texts. No questions."

"I understand."

"I'll send you treats," she added, smoothing the fabric over her hips. "That's all you get."

Treats.

The word landed like a slap and a kiss.

He watched her add the finishing touches: a necklace he hadn't seen in years, heels just high enough to make her legs lethal, lipstick in a shade deeper than blood. She looked like something dangerous. She looked like someone else's.

But he knew exactly whose she'd be tonight.

Tina stepped into the bedroom doorway, clutch in hand. She took one long look at him--sitting there, locked, dressed, waiting.

"This is what you asked for," she said softly.

Then she was gone.

8:43 p. m. ????Tina

[image]

Her legs stretched across a leather couch, dress hiked up just enough to show the strap of her thong. A man's bare thigh in the corner of the frame.

Tina: He didn't even let me sit down before he started touching me.

9:12 p. m. ????Tina

????Tina I just came on his fingers. Twice.

????Tina We're just getting started. I forgot how much I love his cock.

9:41 p. m. Video message from unknown number

[video]

Steve didn't recognize the number. He stared at the screen for a full minute before pressing play. Tina was on her hands and knees. The angle was low--deliberate. From behind.

Mike was inside her, fucking her hard enough to make her cry out with every stroke. Her body jolted with each thrust. Her makeup was ruined. Her moans were feral.

Mike's voice came from behind the camera, breathless but calm.

"Your husband ever fuck you like this?"

Tina moaned something unintelligible.

He slapped her ass hard. "Answer the question."

"No," she gasped. "Never."

"Who fucks you best?"

"You do. Always."

"Who's pussy is this?"

Tina looked over her shoulder, eyes wild. "Yours. It's yours."

"Not your husband's?"

"No, daddy. It's all for you now."

The clip ended with Mike smirking into the camera. The screen went black.

Steve sat in silence, the cage pulsing against his thighs, the pressure unbearable. His heart pounded so hard it made him nauseous.

He didn't text back.

He wasn't allowed to.

11:04 p. m. ????Tina

[1 Image]

I open it. Photo: Her face in the mirror, flushed and glowing. Hair messy, lipstick faded, eyes still drunk with pleasure. Her dress was nowhere in sight.

????Tina Do you miss me yet?

12:27 a. m. -- Text from Tina

????Tina I told him what we're planning. He laughed.

????Tina He said he wants to see your face while he fucks me.

????Tina I told him you'll be on your knees.

She came home at 1:41 a. m.

Steve heard her heels click softly across the hardwood, then pause. The front door closed gently. She didn't call out.

She entered the bedroom with the lights still low. Her skin was flushed. Her hair was tousled. She hadn't cleaned herself up.

She was radiant with the scent of someone else.

She looked at Steve without speaking..

Tina dropped her clutch onto the chair and stepped toward him slowly. Her heels made her look even taller. She slipped off her closed and slid into bed with him. She pressed her body against his and ran her fingers through his hair.

"You got your treats," she whispered.

"Yes."

"You were good?"

"Yes."

She tugged his head back gently. "Are you going to thank me?"

"Yes. Thank you."

"For what?"

"For letting him fuck you."

She kissed his forehead.

Then she pulled away, stripped down in front of him. No teasing. Just removal. Bare, wet, flushed. She sat on the edge of the bed and spread her legs.

"Show me you really mean it."

Steve dropped to his knees.

The scent hit him immediately. Her. Him. The raw, musky proof of what she'd done--of what she'd taken.

He moaned softly as his mouth found her. She was soaked. Still open. He didn't care. He licked slowly, reverently, obediently.

Her fingers threaded through his hair.

"Who did this to me?"

"Mike."

"Who is Mike?"

"Your boyfriend."

"Who let it happen?"

"You did."

"Who wants it to happen?"

"I do," he gasped. "Please. I need it."

"You're going to serve us dinner. You're going to kneel and watch while he ruins me."

"I want that."

She came against his mouth, quietly but completely, her thighs shaking around his head. She didn't say a word for several long minutes.

Then she stood, stepped past him, and climbed into bed.

"You're sleeping on the couch tonight," she said. "I need space to dream about him."

Steve nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

She pulled the covers up, eyes already closing.

On the couch, he looked up at the ceiling, aching and grateful and completely owned.