Plus Three

Plus Three

Note: Part Three and conclusion of the Plus One series. Thanks for reading and your kind feedback!

"Well, that escalated quickly," I said laughing through the awkward silence. I needed to break the ice between my husband, Cory, and I during our dinner night out. Marissa had booked this reservation for just Cory and I. "Erin, it'll be a chance for you two to check in with each other's feelings." Marisa, Cory's ex, became our mistress during our recent honeymoon in Hawaii.

Cory laughed at my joke (thank God) and shook his head. "It jumped up a notch." He raised his wine glass to me and I returned the gesture with a clink. We both downed the last swallow and looked up hoping for the sommelier to quickly find us for refill. (How apt given our recent sexual adventures.)

Cory was dressed handsomely in a charcoal suit. I wore a long, red silk dress with a deeply plunging halter neckline. The design demanded I be braless and fortunately my smaller breasts didn't need a lot of support, but I felt suitably elegant, if a little exposed as my puppies shifted under the thin fabric with my every move. Marissa let me know it was a Michelin star restaurant, and we would feel more comfortable if we dressed well. And even though both Cory and I were hitting stride with our careers, we were new enough to finer things to find such a high-class environment intimidating. Marissa insisted though that we should enjoy ourselves and not worry about the bill and said she ordered a special desert just for us.

Before we left, we video called Marissa who approved our outfits.

"You don't need the choker tonight, Erin."

I turned so that Cory could remove it, which felt strange. It had been her wedding gift to me and had since become a symbol of her ownership. Much like my husband's chastity device, my diamond choker reminded me constantly of Marissa's ownership. But maybe she thought tonight as a gesture, removing the collar, so to speak, would open Cory and I up more. Still, I kept touching my neck, feeling its absence.

The server refilled our wine and took our order. Cory held his glass up again. "Erin, I can't tell you how much I love you."

"I love you... so much," I said gazing into his light-brown eyes. Anyone from the outside would see a new couple just weeks from their honeymoon -- a handsome man and his athletic wife -- taken with each other, soaking in the bliss of the early nesting phase of their marriage. They had no idea that my husband only a week ago was between my legs, lapping up the cum of the men who had fucked me in front of him. The patrons would have choked on their wine to imagine this gorgeous hunk on his knees getting men hard so they can fuck me under the approving gaze of our mistress. And the tony patrons would have shaken their heads in disgust to hear me demeaning and taunting my new, gorgeous husband while I acted the whore as he sat by watching with his beautiful cock locked away in chastity while our mistress dangled the key from her necklace.

As we clinked our glasses in the booth, I used my other hand to seek out the steel cage beneath his slacks. "Miss it?"

He licked his lips. Did he miss being master of his own cock? His eyes went glassy for a moment. He shook his head. He had been in chastity all week with no relief. Marissa had a spare key hidden for emergencies, reminding me, "Wanting to fuck your husband is not an emergency."

Tonight was the first we had brought up the events since that night of debauchery a week ago. It truly was the most intense scene I'd ever been part of. I'd replayed the events repeatedly in my mind all week. Sure, I'd had my fun in college (many men, playing with toys, playing with girls -- one special girl in particular) but nothing as dark as making my husband watch me with another man -- let alone several. The image of Cory waiting by -- his mouth anchored open with a dental device -- waiting to be used, flashed in my mind. I shivered.

Cory had hidden this submissive part of himself prior to our wedding. I learned he had dated Marissa for a long time and she had initiated him into the D/s scene -- a world he thought he'd put behind him by the time he met me. Marissa was the plus one of my cousin at our destination wedding in Hawaii. With admiration, she had hinted to me about his sexual kinks and assumed I must be his new mistress. That sparked my curiosity, as you can imagine. I needed to understand his sexual past in order to put my misgivings to rest. But my competitive nature also meant I thought I could beat Marissa at her own game. One desire became another and I realized I went from wanting to beat her to wanting to be her. Then I wanted to be with her.

As he sipped his wine, swirling it in his mouth, Cory looked contemplative. No doubt recalling the same memories. What did it look like from his view? I had been so slutty, so free, and admittedly cruel. But he'd also encouraged it all -- more than agreed to it, he'd begged for the rough treatment. He had nothing to be ashamed of though.

I said, "Do you regret anything?" He'd been reserved since the night Marissa brought the men over the week after we came back from our honeymoon. She knew Cory would need time to process his feelings. Men aren't without feeling but they're often without words for them. She told me he would withdraw and to be very tender with him, touch him, hold him, praise him. "Just bathe him in kindness." That was easy because I adored my new husband, and it seemed to help. Still he didn't talk about any of it, and when I hinted at bringing it up, he changed the subject. So, I let it be. I trusted Marissa. But we both knew tonight's dinner was her way of creating a safe space to talk. At least here we were sure not to be in the eye of Marissa's hidden cameras.

Cory chewed his lip. He knitted his brows. He had a rugged face, broad shoulders, a tight build, and frankly, a perfect dick that I loved. Our sex life before marriage had been good. His kindness and diligence never failed to get me off. But nothing compared to the excitement of uncovering his submissive side. Maybe it was my natural competitiveness as a former college tennis player, but I liked being on top. It thrilled me to see how much he let go of his controlled exterior when he fully let himself give in to desire. And like an opponent, it thrilled me to break him.

Swallowing his wine, he finally said, "I've been scared, Erin." I put my hand on his arm immediately, squeezing it to reassure him. He went on, "I went so far... so fast... I can understand if you have second thoughts about what we... what I did..."

I shook my head. "No, no, Cory." I stroked hair from his forehead bringing his eyes up to meet mine, both our eyes shining with suppressed tears. My impulse was to tell him immediately how much I loved it, ached for it, how turned on I was to see his pained expression as another man took me, even as I heard Cory beg them to. But was I too into this for him?

"Do you?" I said. "Do you think we went too far?"

This was a moment, a threshold. We had consented all the way through it. Marissa had guided us expertly, kindly. We could have stopped and didn't, but was momentary pleasure getting in the way of reason? Were we drunk on desire, held in the sway of our petite, curvy, dark-haired mistress with the light-brown skin and the sprinkle of freckles across her nose, whose pussy tasted like almonds and honey? (Whew!)

My heart pounded as we stared in each other's eyes both thinking surely of Marissa and how we started out memorizing every square inch of her skin, mapping her delicious aroma in our synapses, becoming her pets, her property, in our literally moonlit bridal suite overlooking the ocean.

But had he had enough? Did finally admitting his desire to be humbled and acting on that base impulse finally get it out of his system? Did he need to retreat to vanilla, monogamous sex? I didn't mind traditional intimacy. I loved being with him any way he wanted it. Our relationship was a partnership; we encouraged each other's success. We talked about everything and sex was never the foundation, but the spice of our relationship. Still, we were game for anything the other wanted. The quiet of the past week was unusual for us. Neither of us embraced conservative culture with its hard boundaries of gender and sexuality, but we also lived in and knew we would be judged by it, and, honestly, thumbing our noses at it was part of the excitement.

"Nothing about what we've done has made me love you any less," I said. "And if you're done, I'm done." I put my hands down on the table for emphasis, but partly to keep them from shaking.

He searched my eyes for the lie. Admittedly, I felt somewhat false in that moment. Could he see it? Could he see that I really got off on what we had done? I loved him and also, I adored Marissa. (No, loved her.) It would be hard to give up the pleasure of the past few weeks -- being free, feeling slutty and abandoned, teasing my husband, seeing his facade crumble before me in literally naked desire, even watching him greedily cleaning my pussy to reclaim it as husband. But I would let that go if he said so. I could endure hard things (clearly.)

He touched my cheek, wincing as if his next words caused him pain. "What if I'm not done?"

My heart pounded. I suppressed my smile.

He said, "What if I want it all? Can you respect a man, who does... what you've seen me do?"

I nodded slowly. I licked my lips. "I've never felt more loved than when you're completely surrendered to me, Cory." I kissed him deeply and he returned it, tentatively at first and greedily as if it was our first kiss. In a way it was, because we kept making new covenants: first in front of the officiant at our wedding, then at the feet of Marissa in our bridal suite, then under her eye in our home, and now together at dinner in the wake of the most passionate night either of us has likely every experienced.

As we broke the kiss, ignoring the server who headed toward us and politely turned away without word, I said. "It's not just the sex, Cory. It's the way I lose myself in the moment, seeing how you surrender to the need. It makes me so fucking hungry for you. I want to make you feel it all -- the humiliation, the pain, the desperation. That look in your eyes when I degrade you while I'm being fucked, is so exquisite." He moaned softly. I hadn't whispered any of that. Anyone eavesdropping could hear me. "Cage getting snug?" I said.

"Yes," he sighed.

"Too bad I don't have the key." I stroked the metal cage, felt with my thumb the damp spot where pre-cum had seeped. Turning forward, I pushed my thumb slowly into my mouth to taste the sweetness.

"I love cum as much as you," I said thoughtfully, glancing at the table next to me where I saw a gorgeous young woman in a saffron dress quickly straighten her head, dabbing her lips with a napkin as cover.

Cory and I both sighed and sipped our wine. The server came back with our first course and we enjoyed the meal while trying to pretend that we both didn't want to go at each other right there in the booth with everyone watching. Me begging for his cock, complaining that it was locked up and calling for men to come fuck me instead. "Don't worry about desert," I'd say. "My husband will have the cream pie."

My nipples were practically cutting through the red silk halter neck of my dress, and both the server, my husband, and the woman in saffron gave me surreptitious looks throughout the meal. I was grateful that I chose to wear a thong because I'm sure I would have soaked an incriminating spot on the back of my dress had I not worn something to sop up my desire.

As we sipped our aperitifs after desert (sadly no cream pie) we stared into the middle distance like two soldiers in a foxhole.

"I'm so fucking horny," I said.

"Yup." He blew out his lips in a audible sigh.

"When do you think we'll get to fuck again," I sighed.

"You wishing Marissa had joined us?"

I nodded. God, to have my face between her legs again. My mouth watered at the thought. She done such a good job of seducing me during the honeymoon. Once home, we'd given her run of the house. She'd installed cameras to monitor our every movement. She had access to our phones even. We'd given all of our privacy over to her.

She'd taken both Cory and I expertly away from each other and gave us back as new people. Still deeply in love but with a new purpose, a new desire that revolved around her, my sexy, ice princess -- literally, a former ice skater. If only those strong thighs would again hold my head firmly in place until I made them shake in orgasm.

My reverie was broken by shadow in front of the table. We looked up to see, not the server, but a tall gentleman, dressed in a designer suit. I thought maybe he was the owner. He had graying, short cropped hair, a dashing five o'clock shadow on his tanned face. He looked mid-fifties. His suit fit him well, but he didn't have that typical over preening body that screamed "I do CrossFit." He was very tall, maybe six-four. Just a good-looking older man whose cologne was completely foreign -- spicy and floral but not feminine.

When he spoke, he had a low, smooth voice I found immediately soothing. "Hi Cory. Erin," he said, "I'm a friend of Marissa's"

#

"May I sit down," he said gesturing to my left side. He looked to me and I looked to Cory.

"Please," Cory said politely.

The man nodded and addressed me. "May I?"

"Please."

The man slid into the booth next to me. I felt deliciously sandwiched between two tall, fit gentlemen. As I shifted, my halter slacked and surely the man saw most of my right breast, my pink areola tight and my nipple achingly hard. I adjusted myself casually. Looking up at him, he looked from my chest to my eyes, not hiding his interest.

"Lovely," he said. "My name is Keith" and he shook each of our hands in turn. His grip was firm and his hands huge.

So, this is dessert, I thought. My eyes flashed to the eavesdropper in saffron, who looked away but couldn't hide the pink blush running up her neck to her ears. She put her hand on her date's arm. They will have fun tonight.

Cory and I waited for Keith to speak. He first gestured to the server and then turned back to us.

"How was your dinner?'

We murmured our pleasure and commented almost on top of each other about the creativity and uniqueness of the dishes. But we didn't care about any of that. We only wanted to know what Marissa had promised him. My mouth watering, I took a sip of water. Try not to look too eager, I told myself.

"I take it this was your first experience," Keith said.

"Uh..."

"Dinner here, I mean." He said grinning.

I rolled my eyes and laughed. "Yes. We've never eaten... here, before." I bit my lip gently.

Keith laughed. "I hear they have an amazing tarte à la crème off menu."

I formed my answer but then snorted laughter as I translated from my high school French in my head. I pushed on Keith's arm in protest of the lame joke, but then left my hand there, sliding it down to his forearm, feeling the width of it, the tautness of his muscles.

Cory put his left hand on my right leg and squeezed lightly. I hoped it was reassurance. Could he feel the pounding of my pulse, the weakness in my legs, the heat just a few inches from his fingertips?

Keith's relaxed demeanor and quick banter put me at ease. But the more I relaxed, the more I turned my body toward Keith, and the tighter Cory's fingers bit into my leg.

Keith addressed it first, seeing the occasional wince in my eyes. "Cory, I must compliment you on your open-mindedness. Not many men would be willing to let their wives make small talk with a stranger."

"A perfect stranger," I murmured, glancing coyly up at Keith.

Cory relaxed his fingers, then put his hand softly on the table. "Most men don't trust their wives to know their own mind. Most men couldn't hold their wife's interest without holding them down."

"Well said, Cory. Well said. I understand you used to date Marissa. So you know something about superior women."

"Yes," my husband said looking Keith in the eye.

"Indeed," I said softly.

"What's that," Keith said.

"I said, 'Fuck yeah.'" picking up my wine for another toast.

We all lifted our glasses.

As Keith set his glass down, swirling it gently with two fingers around the stem pressed down on the table. The gesture stirred something in me and I realized it was like he was gently rubbing a clit gently between his fingers in slow circles.

He chuckled and I blushed to know he'd read my mind.

"Gently, slowly," he said. "To bring out the bouquet."

I sighed.

Again, we both waited on Keith. This was his show. Marissa had cast him in the role, and what were we? Actors? Audience? Victims?

Keith said, "Your areola is showing." I moved to adjust my top "Don't," he said and my hand froze.

He looked directly at my exposed areola, puffy and pink outside the edge of the red silk. My nipple stood in hard relief moving up and down the fabric as my breath came faster under Keith's gaze. He smiled approvingly, reached over and pulled the fabric over with the same two fingers he'd used on the wine stem. Covering me up felt as bold as exposing me might have been.

In that smooth baritone, he said, "We need to see Paris from the Seine."

My heart leapt. That was the phrase -- the passphrase Marissa had instructed us to memorize. Next to me, I felt Cory's body stiffen even as he leaned harder against me. The passphrase, 'Paris from the Seine,' was both an instruction and permission from our mistress. Anyone who used the phrase on us had her permission to use us as they saw fit. But it was also her assurance, because Marissa said that anyone who knew our personal passphrase was safe, was accountable, and was coached and vetted by her personally. While I thought that Keith was Marissa's gift to us, actually, Cory and I were her gift to Keith. Once again, I touched my neck missing my absent diamond choker.

Keith watched us. I brushed my hair back over my ear. He couldn't mistake the blush on my face, the shining in my eyes, the wetness on my lips. I looked to Cory. His lips were parted slightly. His nostrils flared under the breath. I could even smell the anxious bite of his sweat, which fired me like a dog sensing fear. But his eyes were hazy like they were when he was in the thrall of need.

He responded first, but while looking in my eyes. "Paris' lights on the water are magical."

My breath came short and quick, hearing him give the acceptance response. I turned immediately to Keith, my voice shaking, "They are. Paris lights are magic on the water."

Keith nodded. "Meet me at the bar." He didn't move, so Cory slid out of the booth and I followed. He took my hand and led me out of the restaurant to the front bar. As we wended through the tables, I looked back longingly at Keith who gestured to the server for the check.

We found two empty seats at the bar. I sat in one and Cory ordered for both of us. When our three martinis arrived, I nodded to the empty seat next to me but Cory said, "I'll stand."

He held my hand as we waited. "Are you OK with this?"

"Very. He's quite handsome." I looked up at Cory. "And big."

Cory gulped.

Keith surprised him by setting a heavy hand down on his shoulder from behind, signaling his arrival. Cory turned to look up. It's the first I'd seen them side-by-side. Keith was indeed four or five inches taller. My husband was fit but even in the suit, I could tell Keith was a former athlete or something.

"Army," Keith said reading my thoughts again. "Eight years. I've kind of let myself go, I'm afraid," patting his stomach, which could barely be called a spare tire.

I shook my head. "If that's you at your worst, I don't think I could survive your best."

Keith laughed. "Well, if I'd met you then... I may not have survived."

He patted Cory on the back, rubbing his hand back and forth reassuringly, which Cory seemed to realize was as emasculating in the moment as if he had spanked him right there in the bar. But Cory stayed silent, watching my reaction. But my eyes were on Keith's.

Keith took the empty seat Cory had left for him. Taking a sip of the martini and thanking Cory, Keith turned my seat toward himself, leaving Cory as the onlooker. Keith reached between my legs, grabbed the base of the chair and pulled us close together, his knee sliding between mine. The cloth of the dress draped down exposing my entire leg from the hip down, through the slit. He leaned against the bar and stared at me.

"Hey, Erin," he said. "Show us how wet you are."

I blanched and blinked at him, not daring to look around to see if anyone heard him. Cory's voice caught in his throat. A little chirp of excitement he couldn't suppress.

Without breaking eye contact -- to look around was to lose my nerve -- I slipped my hand in the slit of the dress, pressed my fingers against the gusset of my thong, feeling the wetness that had soaked through all evening, only accelerated in the shock of Keith's grabbing my chair. I pulled my hand back and held two wet fingers up for Keith.

He took my wrist and pulled the fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean. He rolled his eyes back, licked his lips. "Fuck, that's good, Emily."

He turned to Cory, "Sorry, but I understand why that's all you need at the end of the day."

Cory nodded, swallowing in empathy.

Keith looked at me, "And I understand why he'd been willing to drink of gallon of spunk just to taste you clean again."

"Whoo," I said. "Just laying it out there."

"Am I wrong?"

Both Cory and I shook our heads.

Keith was kind but matter-of fact. "So, here's the thing, Erin. I have a suite upstairs. I'm going to take your husband up there. We're going to have a chat. Get things straight between us and if all goes well." He looked hard at Cory. "And I can't imagine it won't be. Then he and I will prepare for you and I will text you to join us."

I bit my lip as my heart pounded and my vision started to blur. Fuck, this was happening.

"Speak," Keith said.

"Yes... Sir."

Keith smiled and handed me a key card from his suit pocket. "Nice. And to be clear. If you say 'red' at any time -- either of you, we'll stop. I can leave and the suite is yours for the night. I even have your husband's key." He pulled the chain up from around his neck. I glanced up at Cory and he fixated on the silver key dangling there.

"That sounds... wonderful," I said.

"Good, good. I know we'll have fun. I'm more than thrilled to meet you in person. Would you like to know how much?"

I tilted my head, unsure his meaning.

"Feel me," he said.

Again, I couldn't look around for fear of losing my nerve. Stretching my hand out, I slid it up his thigh. I found the heavy cock quicker than I expected. My fingers traced the length, which didn't seem much longer than Cory's but the thickness shocked me. I shot a look at Cory whose eyes registered the outline formed by my fingers against Keith's slacks.

"Don't worry," Keith said, "I'm gentle."

"Don't be," I said.

That got an approving look from Keith. "OK, then. Now, Erin, you can let go before we get into trouble."

I pulled my hand back, realizing I'd been stroking his cock lightly with my thumb, squeezing it with my fingers, trying to find its full girth.

"One more thing," Keith said. "Take off your underwear."

I swallowed hard. This time I looked around. "Here?"

"Now." Keith gestured to my husband to stand closer. I looked from one to the other. The people around were engaged in conversations. I reached into the slit of my dress again. I hooked the string of the thong and tugged it. It pulled down reluctantly being both very wet and tucked deeper from walking over here. Most of the gusset had wedged between my labia. But I rolled it down my legs, making the awkward bend to pull them off over my heels. Balling them quickly into my fist, I sat up, my face burning with embarrassment.

Keith's expression was approving and Cory couldn't take his eyes off my fist. I knew he wanted to taste them -- taste how hot I was for Keith, how much I was going to give in to every demand. After all, Marissa told me that I couldn't fully top my husband until I had learned what it was like to sub. My eagerness to learn squeezed out between my fingers and dripped on the bar floor. The scent was unmistakable.

Keith said, "Now, while your husband and I are making preparations, I can't leave you hungry like this for any man to come try to chat you up, so I need to keep you quiet. Understand?"

I quivered as I nodded. I could have pulled a train in the bathroom, right there, I was so keyed up.

"So, I need you," Keith said nodding to my fist, "To put those in your mouth."

I whimpered in assent. I put my hand immediately to mouth and stuffed the tiny thong in like it was an amuse bouche. I panted through my nose, squeezing the panties against the roof of my mouth, moaning as the fluid coated my tongue and palate. Closing my eyes and swallowing the juice.

"Jesus," Cory said.

Keith picked up my phone, held it up to my face to unlock it and began typing. "Here's my contact," handing me the phone, he stood. "Are either of you claustrophobic by any chance?"

My husband looked at me and we both made a tiny shrug of our shoulders. I shook my head, saying "No," but not daring to ask why.

"Shall we," Keith gestured to Cory, who immediately started to move. "Hold up, aren't you forgetting something?"

Cody looked confused.

"Kiss your wife good-bye," Keith said. Neither of us missed the double meaning of that phrase.

Cory turned to me, his face also red and his eyes glazed. He bent over me and kissed me, his tongue snaking in my mouth, running along the thin fabric, sucking the spit from my mouth greedily.

Keith tapped him on the shoulder and Cory followed, looking back at me as the two men left me alone at the bar with an empty chair next to me and my mouth sucking my own intimate apparel.

I adjusted my phone on the bar and stared at it. I sipped my martini, letting the alcohol filter through the cloth. "Now that's a dirty martini," I thought laughing through my nose.

Over the next half hour or so, I stayed at the bar, as men sat down to chat me up. I smiled demurely and with each question, I merely nodded and turned away to take a small sip from my martini, letting my flavor vanish slowly with each application. If they tried to buy me another or ask more questions, I shook my head politely, never saying a word.

In the quiet moments between suitors, I thought about the suite upstairs being 'prepared.' What was Keith asking my husband? What would Keith want from us -- do to us? And why was it taking so fucking long?

Finally, my phone pinged. First a text from Cory. "Green." Followed by, "Please."

Then a text from Keith with the suite number. "We're ready. Are you?"

I texted, "All green," and stood up. Immediately I discovered two things: first, my legs were shaky with desire and second, my silk dress needed to be peeled off the bar seat.

I felt panic rising as I quickly pulled my dress free after exposing nearly my whole ass up to my hip from the slit in the dress. Next, I looked at the seat and it was damning, shining where all my dirty thoughts soaked through my dress. I grabbed some bar napkins and wiped down the seat as discretely as I could, balling up the napkins to throw away on my way upstairs. But that posed a new challenge. I felt the wet silk clinging to my ass. Anyone behind me would see a dark circle in the red silk -- too small to look like I wet myself, but big enough to know why I was wet myself. But there was nothing I could do. I had to walk carefully, normally out of the bar, through the lobby to the elevators, and live with the badge of shame, the whole way.

The walk was excruciating and exhilarating. I felt more naked than if I'd left my dress behind at the bar. I fooled no one. Several people who passed me from behind, gave me side eye as they passed me. I tried to be nonchalant, but the blush in my cheeks gave me away.

I finally made it to the elevator, pressing the button to the top floor. Just then a hand came through, stopping the doors. I recognized the eavesdropping woman in the saffron dress. She clocked me too as she moved quickly into the elevator, pressing her button on the way -- one floor below mine. Her date wasn't with her, so surmised she had to go back downstairs for something -- condoms? Seeking to avoid awkwardness, she stepped to the back of the elevator. Her sharp intake of breath, told me she'd seen what I'd been trying to hide. I froze in place. With something like admiration, she said softly, "I wish I were you tonight."

My competitiveness rose up, clearing away my fear. I turned to her. Her shock at my turn registered in her shoulders. I stepped close to her. We both could smell my aroma filling the small space. I leaned over, touched her chin to turn it up to me, my face an inch from hers. I waited. She kissed me. I felt her reaction as her tongue entered my mouth and discovered the thong pressed against my palate. I held the kiss until the bell rang for her floor. She swooned a little as I released her and when she crossed the threshold, she turned back, her eyes wide and questioning. I gave a coy finger wave as the doors closed.

The moment of bravery carried me to the door of Keith's suite. I put the card against the door, heard the beep, and turned the handle.

#

The lights were low in the room and it took a moment to adjust. The first thing I saw was my husband seated in a chair facing me a few feet inside the door. He was completely nude except for the natural rope crisscrossing his body like a kind of vest. His hands were behind him, presumably tied as well, and each ankle had a cuff of rope with one end lashed to the chair legs and winding up to wrap around his thigh, holding his knees open and his lower legs fast. But the most confusing thing was his cock. The light was too dim to make out.

I stepped closer, drawn to the beauty of my husband's naked body and the art of the rope. Clearly, this wasn't something he'd done to himself. This is why Keith had needed the time and why he'd asked about claustrophobia. But Cory didn't look stressed. He looked helpless. His eyes searched mine. He wasn't gagged but he didn't speak. His lip trembled, and he licked it nervously.

As I stood in front of him, captivated by the intricacy of the rope binding, I could see his cock more clearly. The cage had been removed and his cock was fully erect. Rope attached the top halter ran down either side of his crotch, and seemed to wrap around his balls from behind. There it wrapped several times around his scrotum, pulling it down, holding his balls tight. He didn't look to be in pain. His balls were constricted but not to point of turning purple or white, but it was shocking. But the most obscene was the rope wrapped around the base of his cock. It held firmly, keeping him hard like a hand gripping him, but not so tight that it dug into the flesh. It was all a delicate tension to hold him on display -- like a cradle or a brace. His cock's crown had already swollen more than normal and pushed his foreskin down. It was shining with pre-cum and a pearl of it spilled out of his slit and down to pool at the collar of rope. I sighed, suppressing the urge to touch it, to rub my thumb over his purple cock head, to suck and clean my husband's beautifully tortured cock.

Before I could, I felt Keith behind me. Unable to look away from the work of art in the chair before me, clearly positioned for maximum attention, I'd not looked for Keith. His hands softly stroked my shoulders. I shivered.

He said, "What do you think?"

My mouth still stuffed, I could only whimper.

"Indeed" he said sliding his fingers under the halter of my dress and slipping it over my head. With no other support, the entire dress dropped to my feet. I thought back to my wedding day when I dropped my dress similarly for my husband. This was before I knew how greedy his appetites were, when he fucked me hard against the door until he came, then fell to his knees to finish what he had started, cleaning up his cum from my pussy for the first time. Now another dress was on the floor and we were both naked for a stranger. Keith's warm breath draped my head and neck as she stroked his fingers delicately along the nape. He reached around to stroke my cheek and chin. Then gently, he slipped his finger into my mouth and pulled out the thong. It dropped to the floor with a splat. Cory shook.

Then Keith draped rope over my shoulders and around my neck. The ends on either side dropped to the floor. I felt the slight scratch of the rope, the weight of it. It was like the scrape of fingernails, sparking across my flesh. Goosebumps raised on my skin.

"Do you accept this?" Keith said.

"Yes." I wanted to feel what my husband felt. Cory watched me greedily. He wanted to see it too. Keith moved my hands to the top of my head and I held them there as he quickly wrapped and twisted the rope across my torso, I wondered how Cory had felt, first stripping for another man without me there, then feeling those expert hands moving around him, the rope touching and tightening, the slight chafe, but never cutting. Did he moan as I did?

As the ropes crossed my breasts, the binding pushed them out and up. Already swollen, my areolas were bright pink and fully puffed up as if they'd already been sucked. My nipples were almost painfully tight. They sparked with pleasure as Keith let the rope brush lightly against them as he wrapped me. Each move of the rope was like a caress. Nothing careless in his moves. It was like a dance.

As he worked, he asked about boundaries and confirmed our safe words. It was hard to concentrate but I knew it was important.

"Are there words or phrases to avoid?"

I thought nothing, but then one did come to mind. "I'm OK with most language, but... I don't like "bitch" or other words demeaning my character. I'm OK with focusing on my desire. I'm a slut, whore, needy whatever. Those are all OK, and... uh, true."

"I understand, Erin. I respect that. Thank you for being clear. And based on how good you smell, I can confirm you are a needy little slut."

I sighed. The room already had the heady aroma of sex.

When the rope halter was complete, I felt a growing calm. His expert touch, his gentle teasing, but also the comfort of the rope across my skin, like a hug from every direction, added to my comfort.

He guided my legs apart, bringing the ends of the rope down from the halter at my belly and guiding them to either side of my vulva. Gently with the bundle of rope in his hands, he flicked the rope up, tapping my vagina.

I screamed. He tapped again, sending new pleasure through me. He dragged the rope down my lips. He tapped my swollen clit. Each touch random and unfamiliar, but every nerve was lit up. My eyes wide, I focused on Cory's. He could see me completely helpless to the pleasure another man was giving me. I moaned and panted through my nose, drool even dripped from the corners of my mouth.

This inflamed my husband all the more. His cock, locked up for a week, flowed honey, soaking the rope. I secretly hoped he could come just watching Keith bind me and tease me.

For several minutes, Keith stroked, dabbed, and dragged the rope over all my exposed skin. My entire body was enervated and open, to the point that any sensation was amplified. My whole body was afire like my swollen clit.

At last Keith let the rope drop and pulled it through my legs behind me. He guided one hand behind my back and wrapped the ends of the rope to my arm, pinning it there, adjusting so that it was resting but immobile. But each movement up, tightened the ropes along my vulva, squeezing it. I moved my arm up and down, letting myself feel the change in pressure. Just like this I could probably make myself come. I moaned as Keith let me play for a minute, practically masturbating for the two onlookers: my husband helpless in the chair, and Keith invisible behind me.

He gripped the rope that ran up my spine and turned me. Shocked by the ease with which he could control me, I yelped. He faced me to the floor-length mirror in the hallway next the bathroom, where Keith must have watched when I came in. I regarded my nude body in awe. The rope halter was beautiful and erotic. My breasts were squeezed and distended in wanton display. My pussy was pink and puffy, more than I'd ever seen it. I could only think, this is a slut begging to be fucked. Look how needy she is, how on display her private parts, how little she controls them.

Keith stood behind me, fully nude as far as I could tell. He ran his hands over my shoulders and neck, up my sides. I moaned and leaned back against him.

He said, "What do you think?"

"I've never felt sexier," I said.

"And your husband?"

"It's so erotic."

"Come here." He turned me around and brought me in front of my husband. Keith slipped his fingers over my pussy and sank them easily into me. We all heard the squelch.

"Oh, fuck. Please," I cried as my head bent forward. Keith guided me down to my knees. I felt so helpless and on display, by breasts jutting out lewdly. Keith kneeled between Cory and I, holding his fingers up between us.

"She's so wet, your wife, Cory. She wants this so much. Do you want this for her."

"Yes, please, sir." Cory said. His voice was weak and strained.

Keith went on, "As I explained earlier to your husband, once I have you both bound, I can do anything to either of you any time. It's an art I picked up in Japan, but I like to think I've added a few things of my own." He took his wet fingers and rubbed the crown of Cory's cock with them.

"Oh, fuck!" Cory whined.

"It's an exquisite pain," Keith said. "Once the nerves are lit up like this, you can extend the torture with the lightest touch. I was so glad to see your husband was not circumcised because the nerves are especially sensitive." He kept lazy circles of his thumb over my husband's glans, even sliding his fingertip under the foreskin. "Would you like to try?" Keith said.

I nodded greedily and reached out my free left hand. Keith held my husband's cock for me as I slid my thumb over the purple crown. I copied the slow, lazy swirls that Keith had done, as Cory whined and moaned and panted. "Please," was his only word.

"You could do this for an hour and he wouldn't come," Keith said. Cory groaned. "He whines and cries, but he doesn't say stop, does he?"

I shook my head. The power I felt playing with his cock. It was like a volume button on his whimpers and groans. A little a more pressure, a little less speed, a lighter touch, my fingernail just brushing the skin, tugging on the slit, and he responded loudly. The pre-cum practically poured out, like the wetness dripping down my inner thighs.

"Keep that up," Keith said standing. Now I could see his cock hanging there. "Jesus," I gasped and Cory yelped as I squeezed too hard in shock. Keith's cock was heavy and thicker than anything I'd ever had. I had a moment of apprehension wondering how that would even fit.

"Open" Keith said turning to my husband. With profound disappointment I saw that he meant to give my husband first taste. But the look in Cory's eyes as he turned from me, looked up at our evening's master, and slowly lowered his jaw, gave me flutters. He stuck his tongue out flat and Keith laid his cock against it. My husband remained open, his eyes obedient, as Keith pressed the swelling crown down against the wet tongue. As the cock grew firmer, and the crown swelled, Keith traced my husband's lips, until I could see the sticky pre-cum collecting like gloss.

Jealousy rose up and I swirled my finger in the most agonizing way possible. Cory mewled in pain. Keith laughed.

"She wants it, Cory. Don't you see? But I needed to show her how much her husband wants to demonstrate his submission first."

"Please," I said. "I already know."

Keith tapped his cock several times along my husband's cheek before turning back to me. "You can let go of your husband's cock now, Erin. You won't need it tonight, will you?"

I shook my head. I opened my mouth. Having no idea how to get that beast in my mouth, I settled on wrapping my lips around the crown and swirling my tongue. God, his cum tasted good. It was thicker and stickier too. I moaned as I nursed it.

"Your wife is so hungry, Cory."

"Mm hm," I hummed, looking sideways at Cory, seeing the ache in his eyes belied by the licking of his lips. Are you sad, husband? I thought. Or are you jealous? I sucked furiously overwhelmed with the urge to make Keith come, wanting nothing more than his cum to flood my mouth.

That fired Keith. His cock, so large, took a while to fill, but when it did, I couldn't close my fingers around it. I stroked my hand until he pulled away, leaving me gasping and begging, "No, no, no, please!"

Keith lifted me up by the rope harness. I felt the momentary bite of the ropes around my pussy, eliciting as gasp. He took me to the bed and bent me over it. At first, I thought he's going to fuck me with that monster right here. Yes, please.

Instead, he freed the rope attached to my right arm, holding it to guide me on my back. Carefully, he lifted my right leg up and aligned it with my right arm. Seeing no pain in my expression, he used the rope to lash the two together, forearm to shin. Suddenly, I was practically in the splits on my back, my leg held up with my arm. (Thank goodness for Pilates.) I was helpless as I felt my pussy gape open with the effort. I realized that I could relax and the weight of both would keep me open. There was no discomfort as long as I didn't struggle. Next, he lifted me up on the bed fully. He took my left leg and eased it bent until my heel was close to my butt. Then he lashed my leg closed above the knee and across the thigh.

He stood back to admire his work -- and my flagrant display. I've been less exposed in my gynecologist's office. My right leg and arm above my head. My left leg bent and falling back with the weight. My left arm was free but useless. Keith's cock was fully hard now. Whereas Cory's cock arched gracefully up when hard, Keith's fought futilely against the pull of gravity. It jutted out like a steel crossbeam. I could hang clothes on it. I lay there open silently begging him to stuff that into me, yet fearful he might.

Keith rose and stood behind the chair lifted it with Cory still in it, carrying my husband like a doll in a carriage to set it down to the corner at the foot of the bed. Unable to move, I lifted my head to see Cory. He stared between my legs, no doubt seeing my open exposed pussy, lips swollen, my clit hard and red, pressing the hood away, my vagina pulled open and gaping, liquid running down the labia to my anus. Even that was clenching as if the cream dripping into it was there to prepare for the inevitable escalation. My every opening, shouting, "Yes, please."

Keith stood behind Cory, leaning over him. He even laid his cock on my husband's shoulder. Cory's eyes looked at the dripping crown coming into his peripheral vision.

"Isn't she a vision?" Keith said. "Could you imagine any other man, with this beauty at his side, willing to let another man anywhere near her?"

Cory's voice was quiet but reverent, "What makes you think that any one man is enough for her?"

That made me quiver.

Keith said, "True. But there's one man who isn't enough for her tonight."

I laughed but then said, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Cory. I... can't help it."

"No, he loves it." Keith said. "You know, your husband had only one boundary tonight. He doesn't want to be called a cuck. And I respect that, of course, but looking at the two of you now, I understand the nuance. His pleasure derives from yours. The better you feel, the more he gets off. He said he likes the humiliation you give him, Erin. He craves it, but he's not looking for other men to fuck you. He wants you to fuck other men. There's a difference. It's you, my little starfish, that he needs to see lose control. And the more you take it, the more he can take back later as he restores your connection. It's a beautiful thing."

"Then I guess you better, fuck me, Keith. I want my husband to see that monster inside me." I was looking at Cory as I said it. Keith was right about Cory but he didn't know how much yet I loved it -- showing my husband how slutty I could be.

I pulled on my ropes feeling the gentle pressure and scrape of the rope, letting it squeeze my vulva, sending sparks up through my pussy lips, with just the hint of pressure against my clit. I squirmed, I wrestled against the ropes, unable to move my body, to use it to seduce Keith. What mystery was left when my every hole was laid open before him? What trick could I try to get him to give into his lust and just fuck me. I swore and panted as I tested the ropes, never too tight, never tight enough.

Suddenly, I sighed. I relaxed. I gave into the comfort of the ropes. No fight. A rush of tingles spread through my body. I felt suspended and weightless; my limbs no longer tense but supported like a suspension bridge.

"There it is. Surrender," Keith said as he moved away from Cory, leaving a streak of shining pre-cum on his shoulder. Keith shifted me to my left side and gently licked up my right leg, all along the inside from my ass to my knee. I didn't attempt to move; I let gravity and the ropes negotiate. I simply felt the sensation, every inch of my skin activated from the earlier teasing.

For the first time tonight, I felt that Keith was doing this for his own pleasure. He'd got me to the state of exhaustion and compliance. My head was fuzzy with endorphins, and now any touch, any movement would keep me on edge. I could feel the orgasm sitting outside the door lighting up the room. It would take so little. But Keith now gave over to exploring and tasting my body for the first time. It made me appreciate the effort and care of domination. It's the sub who's the center of attention -- no wonder my husband wanted it.

Still, now that Keith established full control, he simply enjoyed that access. He traced every square inch with his kisses and caresses. Along my sides, under my armpit, my wrists, my ankles, the soles of my feet. Reverent and gentle, I listened to his soft murmurs and breathing. With both Cory and I restrained, he could do anything freely, savor it for himself, taking pleasure in my body, as if he was memorizing each detail.

So, by the time he got to my pussy, I was already babbling constantly and incoherently. I think I said, "Never, never, never..." And "Please, God, yes, please, oh, God..." And I know I said, "I want your cock so bad. I need it please. I've never felt so good." The last I spoke directly to Cory through half-lidded eyes. He saw me as lust-drunk and swooning. I looked at his cock, tied up and drooling, useless to me now, secondary to the one I begged for in the moment. I laughed weakly and laid my head back, too weak to hold up anymore.

When Keith set in on my pussy, he displayed even more tricks. He massaged my lips and vulva, taunting. He slipped his fingers inside me gently stretching, finding the spots I didn't know needed him. He must have brought me to the edge half-a-dozen times. My sweat soaked the sheets, ran down my legs, which quivered on the verge of exhaustion.

He hadn't even touched my clit. With three fingers inside me doing figures like dancing ice skaters over my g-spot, I moaned so long and loud, I startled myself with my echo from the walls. Who's crying? I thought. I was. Tears flowing down my cheeks into my ears as I muttered, "Fuck, fuck, fuck. Please, oh, please."

"Tell him," Keith said watching me squirm with his fingers deep inside me.

I weakly lifted my head. Tears in his eyes, he strained against the ropes.

"Oh, no, baby." I said, "You can't do anything. You... oh, you look so sad. It feels so good, baby. I can't do anything. I'll let him do anything now. To me.... to you." I laughed. "All night, baby. But he's so big. So... big. See how hard and thick he is, baby? How come he won't fuck me? He knows I want him to. Why won't you just fuck me?"

The last was to the both of them. Then I realized what Keith needed from me. I gave my husband a hard look.

"You need to..." I said, "Baby, he needs us both to beg. Beg him, please, baby. You're useless now. Your dick doesn't work for me here. My husband can't take care of me like this. I've never felt like this. I've never felt so ready. I'd fuck anything, anyone right now. Open the door, baby. Let them all in. Please, baby. Beg him."

"Please," Cory croaked. His face was red. The teasing, the taunting were driving him crazy. The need to break the ropes and take me, along with the impossibility of it all. Keith and I both looked at Cory. "Please, sir. Please make her come. Please fuck her. Make her scream. Make her forget my pathetic cock. I'm... not... enough." He groaned, "Oh, fuck!" he cried and his eyes went wide. Cum poured out of this cock. It pumped out weakly but it flooded all down his crotch. "Oh, no. Oh, no," he whispered.

Keith chuckled. He looked at me hungrily. "I think he ruined his own orgasm."

"Oh, baby, you spurted without coming? That's so fucking sad."

He shook his head. His face down. His tears dropped onto his cock, mixing with the cum. Then Keith shocked us both. He reached over, scooped up and handful of my husband's spent load and spread it all over my pussy. Then he scooped another and coated his own cock with it.

"Holy fuck," I said. "That's so fucking perfect."

He went in so easily. The stretching, the extension of my desire, all of it preparing me. And the final moments: my husband's frustrated tears, his final humiliation. Keith would fuck me with my husband's cum as lube.

As I opened up, my head spun. Overwhelmed with so much pleasure, I think I came. That is, I've never come that way before: a long, continuous rolling of waves through me. My scream caught in my throat. Then Keith tapped lightly on my clit and my vision when white.

A moment later I was back in my body, feeling wave after wave, just continuous pleasure -- not climaxing exactly. I'd felt that, but it just kept edging over. Tears ran down my face, and I kept muttering oaths, while Keith used me as his fuck toy. I thanked God he wasn't too long because the way he stretched me was beyond anything I'd felt since Marissa had fisted me that first time on our hike. That may have been the event that made her think Keith was right for me.

His grunts were coming closer now. He was muttering too, "Fuck. So good. So good." He seemed to catch himself. He slowed slightly. "I'm close, Erin. So close."

Normally, I'd have wrapped my heels against his hips and pulled him deep inside me as encouragement. I only had my left hand free. I wrapped it around his back, pulled him against me. "Do it," I said. "Inside. I need to feel it."

He pressed forward again, unable to restrain himself. The gush of his cum was new to me also. Warm and full. He was so deep inside and sealed so tight that I imagined a growing bubble building up inside my vagina coating my cervix. Each grunt as his prostate spasmed, I also felt through my vagina -- so many pulses. Finally, he relaxed his weight against me, squeezing my clit and I came again. This time feeling the contractions squeezing around the cock inside me, truly feeling every inch.

But even though I could tell Keith needed to catch his breath, he understood how long he could lie on top of me with his full weight in my position. He pushed up, looking down at me and we kissed for the first time. How had this gorgeous man avoided marriage? But what was it my husband said about me, "One wasn't enough."

He twisted and we looked at Cory together, tied to the chair, tears drying on his flushed cheeks, sweat running down his skin. His bound cock, soaked with cum not good for anything tonight except lube. Yet, in his eyes, desire. He looked to our hips where Keith and I were joined.

"He wants to see," I said.

Keith pressed back and stood up, leaving me splayed on the bed, one leg up, one bent, my pussy open. How wide was the opening? I knew it would soon relax, but I could feel the unique sensation of air inside. And by the expression of wonder on Cory's face, I was gaping. Then I squeezed.

"Oh, Jesus," Cory cried as I felt the gush of Keith's cum pour out.

It took Keith only seconds to un-lash Cory from the chair. But even when free he waited. Keith stepped closer and to the side -- so I could watch. He grabbed the back of my husband's head and guided his mouth to Keith's sticky cock.

Cory sighed and gave over to cleaning Keith's cock. While cum continued to drain out of my pussy, Cory licked and swallowed the mess all over Keith's cock and balls. Cum and cream combined. Cory closed his eyes at times, murmuring and cooing, which I knew he exaggerated for my benefit. God, I loved it. When Keith felt he'd done enough, he turned my husband's head toward me. With my free hand, I played in the cum around my pussy, rubbing myself gently, feeling the width of my opening as I watched Keith own my husband. My fingers were coated. I felt like I'd sat on bowl of pudding. Cory's eyes rolled back in his head.

"Good boy," I said, holding out fingers and curling them toward me.

Keith used the harness to lift him and guide him to the foot of the bed. Cory bent his face forward. He paused as he got close. He breathed in the aroma of our fucking and groaned. "So, much," he muttered. Then he began cleaning me.

As my husband slurped up Keith's spunk like it was a milkshake (it felt like that much although we all know better,) Keith carefully released my arm and legs. Gently he massaged and caressed along the lines the rope had made. Next, he sat behind me on the bed, cradling my head in his lap. I felt his spent cock against my neck.

"You did so good, Erin. It's a rare thing for a woman to take me all the way."

I reached up and rubbed Keith's back, luxuriating in the praise and afterglow. "Gentle," I cried when Cory touched my clit, which was way overstimulated. "Slowly," I said, "Enjoy your treat."

He grunted like a pig, swallowing and lapping.

"How do you like Keith's jizz, baby?"

"Mm..." He muttered without looking up. "So good. So much."

"Well, some of it is yours, I suppose. It sure made it easier for Keith to fuck me."

Cory whimpered. I loved that sound.

"I think Keith's getting hard again. I think he likes watching husbands pathetically slurp up his spunk. You make me so happy, baby. I want to make you eat so much more. Oh, yes, baby. Keith's monster cock likes when I talk to you like this." Between his licking and my dirty talk, I was making myself hot again. I thought I was exhausted. Cory could tell too. He was lapping deeply and panting like he does when he can taste mostly me again.

"Fuck, his cock's so big hubby. Can you feel me squeezing more of his spunk out for you?"

Keith got up, gently laying me head back on the bed. "Want to see something fun?"

"Yes, daddy," I said. (Where did that come from?) Both men groaned.

Keith pulled my husband to standing. His face was a fucking mess. Cum and cream coated his cheeks and even his eyebrows. It ran down his chin and neck. Keith helped me to scoot down so my legs were off the end of the bed. He nudged Cory to stand between my legs. His cock and balls were still restrained. I could see how tight his balls were against the rope. He really wanted to come again.

"Did you forget to have an orgasm, baby?" I said. "When you gave us all that lube?"

"Yes. I mean, no. I... wanted to, but."

"It all just flowed out. I know, baby. But I loved it. I liked that sad look in your eyes when you squirted for us."

"Then you'll love what's next," Keith said. he bent Cory over and once again, ran his hand over my husband's cock getting his fingers slick again with all the spent load. I quivered. I loved watching a man stroke another. Then Keith rubbed his hands together to get his hands sticky again, and pressed the fingers of one hand into Cory's ass, and with the other he gripped around the crown of Cory's cock. He yelped as Keith ran his thumb aggressively over the crown. By the look in Cory's eyes, Keith was moving the fingers of his other hand too, finding that spot Marissa showed me.

I stared into Cory's eyes as he bent over me while being completely owned by Keith's thick fingers. I played with my nipples. I played with my pussy, still slick.

"So close, and yet." I stuck my sticky fingers in my mouth, sucking them clean. "You only get to spill on my belly." My fingers dipped in for more.

"Tell us, when you're close," Keith said.

"Yes, sir." Cory's eyes dropped in shame as he ground back on Keith's hands.

"Look at me, while you fuck Keith's fat fingers, hubby."

He groaned and bucked for me, to show me.

"He's got such a greedy ass, don't he, Keith."

Cory cried out, "I'm..."

And in that moment, Keith pulled out his fingers and let go of my husband's cock.

"Oh, no, no, no." Cory cried as the cum poured out of his cock. After a few pulses, Keith pushed his fingers in again and continued to massage Cory's prostate. I saw more and more cum drain out -- thinner but ubiquitous. Normally, he'd spurt enough to hit my breasts and neck, but this was just a big puddle on my belly.

With a nudge, Keith let Cory drop his face into the mess. Keith left to wash his hands, leaving me to play with Cory's hair and caress his ears and neck while he sucked up his second ruined orgasm of the night.

"Oh, Cory." I sighed. "That's so fucking hot. You did so good, baby. Yeah, lick that up." With lust I pulled his face up to mine where I could kiss him deeply, licking his face clean. We went back and forth, playing in the cum and cleaning it up.

Keith sat down (not on that chair, which I'm sure we'd have to pay for) and watched Cory and I reclaim each other.

Before we could collapse completely, Keith slowly finished untying us. Picking up the shears he had on the nightstand -- for emergencies, I later learned -- he finished cutting away the remaining ropes, leaving them scattered around us. He checked our skin for marks. There was only redness where the rope had been but no broken skin or bruising. He set a jar of lotion on the nightstand.

"Be sure to rub this in."

Lastly, he grabbed a small device from the shelf above the bed and pressed a switch; a small red light went dark.

"What's that" I said between kisses.

"For Marissa."

Of course. Yes, she'd want to watch the whole thing. Why would she let us out of her sight?

"Thank you," I said after Keith had showered and changed, and waved to me from the door, as Cory massaged my skin with the ointment.

"Anytime," Keith laughed.

"I hope so."

#

In the morning, I received a text from Marissa. Just a padlock emoji. I waited until after Cory and I showered before I secured the chastity device to its semi-permanent home, kissing his cock one last time before sliding on the cap, patting the steel gently as I locked it again, hanging the chain around my neck.

We'd gotten away with something though. Earlier that morning, I had awoken to Cory spooning me. I felt his erection pressing against my back and I knew I needed it. We fucked face-to-face tenderly like old times. We came together and fell back asleep in our mess. Now looking up from the cage to Cory's eyes, I said, "I'm glad we got to have that this morning."

I stood and we kissed there in the suite, like normal newlyweds in the afterglow.

He said, "I loved it too. If we had to, we could be happy with just that."

I nodded, then bit my lip and smiled, "If we had to."

Shortly after Cory and I got back home, Marissa called. We knew her cameras watched for us, probably sent movement alerts. We could have searched for the cameras, but Cory and I felt more thrill in not knowing. We often went around the house semi-nude, just hoping for some kind of reaction from our mistress. I'd even tried masturbating just to see if I could get her to tell me no. The buzz of the text message gave me a thrill. "Stop." Delicious. Caught you looking.

But today she called. Her voice was bright and casual, like a old friend, "How do you feel about playing some tennis?"

"Love it!" I was thrilled. I had missed her so much. Even though she lived in my thoughts, I hadn't physically touched her since the night she and her two male friends had put Cory in chastity. Was this part of her game? To extend my aching and block my need for reassurance?

She gave me the address to "a private court," which sounded intriguing. It was in a gated community, which made sense. I entered the gate code and followed the route to an expensive, custom home at the top of a rise. It looked modern and had patios wrapped around, providing what I was sure was beautiful view of the surrounding hills.

She met me at the driveway as I got out of my car. She wore a cute, yellow tennis outfit: a pleated skirt and a matching tank. The white sports bra underneath contrasted nicely. I was in tennis whites: better for my pale skin. I chose a flouncier skirt, expecting to give her a little tease as I bounced around the court.

Also, I wore the diamond choker Marissa had given me. It went with the outfit at least. It irritated the rope mark on my throat at first, but even that became a reminder of what I would endure for her.

Marissa took me on a path around the back of the property to a gated court.

"The place is lovely. How did you learn about it?"

"Oh, I know the owner."

We warmed up. I noticed as she stretched that she was wearing black boy shorts under her skirt. My similar pink pair fit me snugly, but hers accentuated her round ass, giving me a little peek of cheek as she moved around. I knew she had been a figure skater and was rounder than those days, but the curves only made her more attractive. Her light-brown skin, the sprinkling of freckles on her face, and the bounce of her curly black hair might prove a distraction during play.

But I was more experienced. She knew I played in college. I struggled to transition to pro. So, it ended there, but you don't lose the competitive drive. I looked forward to showing off a bit for my mistress.

"How long since you played?" she asked as we finished our warm ups and hydrated.

"I mean. I guess, I haven't played in a couple of years. I played Cory once and beat him badly enough that he suggested we learn a new sport together. So, yeah. Maybe I have a little rust."

She looked up at me, spinning her racquet cutely on a pointed toe. "I'm excited to see you play."

"How about you? You didn't say you played."

"Oh, not like you. But you gotta play tennis and golf with some of these Chads I work with."

I nodded knowingly. Yep. Sometimes you have to put them in their place."

"Exactly," Marissa said and gave me the cutest wink before kissing me and walking over to the baseline. "You serve first."

I went to my service line and quickly double-faulted. But then I found my toss and dispensed with the first game 40-15. I got a little thrill of her pouting as the aces went by, but on the last serve, she found the pace and we had a brief rally. Her short legs had a lot of power and speed. And on her serve, she was able to get around the ball on my returns. I had to keep moving her side to side to finally win the next game 40-30. I had to focus though because I could get distracted watching her bounce around the course. That sports bra was getting a workout and her boy shorts rode up a bit. Up three games to love, we changed ends, stopping to drink.

The sheen of sweat on her skin was so sexy. The fabric clung to her as the sweat soaked through. I knew my face was red and blotchy from exertion. I was a little winded and out of practice, but I felt good.

"You're really kicking my ass," she said.

"Well, I've had a lot of practice."

"Not with me, though."

"No."

"Maybe you need a handicap." She stepped close to me, looking up. Then she tugged lightly at my choker with one finger. Please kiss me, I thought. Physical exercise always made me horny. She stood closer and caressed my legs while she made eye contact, then slid her hands slowly up my skirt. Biting her lower lip, her fingers reached the band of my shorts. She grabbed with both hands.

I froze, looking around now. "Out here?"

"No one can see you but me, my pet. Besides. You don't have any say in the matter." She gripped tighter. "Unless."

I shook my head. I would not be using the safe word.

"Thought so," she said smugly, while she eased my shorts down, letting me awkwardly finish peeling each leg hole over my tennis shoes. She even walked behind me as I bent over to finish.

Standing up, my blush competed with exertion for which made my face deeper red. She walked over to the other side of the court and waited. Leaning into my discomfort, I jogged over to the baseline letting her get a peek of my bare ass under the bounce of my skirt. It was her serve so I crouched low, swaying, grateful there was no view behind me.

"Nice," she said. "Love-Three"

This time her serve came a little faster, and down the line. I got my racket on it and we rallied a bit before I won the point. I was out of breath though. Next serve was short and pulled me off court for the return. I started moving back on her serves. It took more rallies to win the game and I was panting by the end of it. She made me forget I was naked below my skirt, but in the moments between serves the air on my sweaty skin reminded me.

"You've got game," I said.

She smiled across the court as I got ready to serve.

"It's a fun game. Want to make it more fun?"

I lifted up my skirt to flash her my bare pussy. She shook her head. "No, a bet."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, if I break you."

"Break my serve?"

"Yeah, surely I'm not gonna beat you but if I win a game on your serve, there's a forfeit."

"OK," I felt good about those odds and anything she wanted from me, I would do anyway. It felt win-win.

She walked toward the net and I met her there.

"So, what if you don't break me this set?" I said.

"Hmm." She gestured for me to bend down over the net and she spoke to my ear. "I'm at a real disadvantage here. So, I think you have to win the set. But if you do, then you can be my mistress for a day."

I sighed. What wouldn't I want to make her do for me? My heart couldn't pound any harder or my face flush more. But I felt the flutters in my stomach. I was two games away from winning at love.

"And if you break me?'

"Well, I've already broken you, my pet. But if I break your serve, then you have do something... I mean, it can't be something you already want to do, right?"

I tilted my head. There might be a catch here. I shook my head.

She said, "So, if I break you then you have to... I know... tell a friend about us."

"What? Like how?"

She looked me dead in the eye. "If I manage to break you, then you have to tell one of your girlfriends all about me and you and Cory."

I felt the rush of anxiety but something else: a little thrill. It felt dangerous. Our little secret? Who would I tell? Who would believe it? Still, I was up 4-0 and even though she had been sandbagging about her ability, I hadn't been broken more than a dozen times my senior year of college.

"You're on."

"The whole deal, though. I mean juicy details."

"Deal."

Her eyes flashed and she skipped back over to the baseline. Warily, I went to over to the service line. She held up a finger. I paused my serve.

"Gotta even things up," she said and lifted her skirt. She tugged her shorts down, being sure to turn and bend over while she freed her feet. Fuck, her ass was gorgeous. She turned back and lifted her skirt to show me the light patch of hair over her vulva. I noted the swelling of flesh. In my head, I could already smell her aroma, I was so imprinted.

Needless to say, she saw a lot of second serves that game. And I missed a couple of easy volleys taking my eye off the ball. Soon we were at deuce and she was holding up her skirt and swinging her hips while I got ready to serve. Frankly, it ticked me off. I aced the next shot, and we went back and forth, deuce, add out, deuce, add in. Then I double-faulted. Then she won the next rally. Then I muffed her service return (ironically.) And there I was broken. 4-1.

"Who will it be?" she said. "Tiffany? Liane, Kylie?"

She had met them all at my wedding. Liane and Kylie were my bridesmaids. Tiffany was my maid of honor. She was closest to me, but that might make it harder. Kylie was gay, so maybe that would be easier. But Liane might be more open-minded than both of them. But Tiffany and Liane were both married. And couples talked.

"I don't know yet." I felt a growing ache in the pit of my stomach.

"Well, maybe you won't have to decide."

I was deeply in my head as she easily won the next game. Now, we were 4-2. I felt like I had to redeem myself. Marissa became an opponent more than my mistress. Sure, she was sexy as hell running around the court flashing her fanny. I tried some distractions myself, giving her an eyeful when the time was right. She leaned into it, seemed to love seeing my fire. I held nothing back and won the next game. We stood at 5-2 and I was only one game away.

Before she served, she removed her top, leaving her sports bra. Her brown areolas showed through the damp, white fabric and her nipples stood up for me. Her gold bar piercings were fully outlined. I knew what it felt like to tug them with my teeth and hear her moan.

"Fighting dirty."

"Two serving five," she said. She won the game at love. I was getting in my head and having trouble.

"Two can play," I said removing my skirt. Now I was naked below the waist. "Five-three."

Soon I was reminded why I hadn't gone further in college. I could be an emotional player. I needed to win. Sometimes, I could get frustrated. So, when she broke me again, I screamed.

"Easy, my pet," Marissa said. "I guess now you have to decide who not to tell."

"What? No!"

"The forfeit is for a break. Two breaks. Two friends, my pet."

"Fine! Serve."

She laughed. "You're so easy. Four-Five." It was a close game, but she held serve and now we were even.

"Five-Five," I said and began removing my top and bra. I needed to up the distraction. Now I was naked except for my shoes and my diamond choker.

"Keith sure left his mark on you, Erin."

I looked at my body and could see the pink stripes from the rope bondage. They didn't hurt but I felt like a teenager coming home to her parents with hickeys all over her neck.

"It's a wonder you can still walk straight," she said.

And then I was not only mad at my game, but angry about not having practiced in years, and also thinking about how fat Keith's cock was and how full I felt and oh, my god, I still felt like I was empty afterward.

So, I was in near tears of frustration before she broke me for the third time behind a well-placed lob when I got too aggressive at the net.

I put my hands to my knees and screamed.

Marissa came over to the net where I was sweating and panting. I looked up at her, mad now that my eyes were watering with frustration. She didn't have to remind me that I now had three friends to confess to.

"Six-Five," she said.

"You've sharked me."

She smirked. "Don't hate the player. You're good, but... Like you said, a little rusty."

Frustrated by recognizing her game, I looked up at smiled at her. "I still have one prize left."

"You sure do," she said, sauntering over to the service line as she removed the rest of her outfit. The sun glinted off her nipple piercings as she swayed her bare breasts.

I thought of all the ways I could make her serve me as my sub for the day. I'd make her eat me for an hour, edging me until I screamed in ecstasy. I'd have her bathe me. I'd toy with her pussy until she begged me to fuck her with a strap on. Maybe I'd even bring Cory into the play. I thought about everything but tennis.

"Seven-Five," she said as she held serve. "I win."

She came across the net where I was bent over panting. She put her arm around me and we walked over to our gear. She pulled a towel out of her bag and tossed it to me. I mopped my sweat. I drank my water and stared at her. She sat down on the bench with her legs splayed wide, sucking on a water bottle. She looked radiant. She was made for the sun.

"C'mere," she said pointing in front of her.

I shuffled over defeated.

"Drop the towel." She pointed to the ground between her feet and I did as I was told. "Now kneel."

Suddenly, my frustration evaporated. My shining goddess wanted me on my knees between her legs. I dropped down onto the towel.

"There, there," she said as she pulled me into her chest. "Kiss it better."

I sucked and licked her nipples, tugging lightly at the bars, letting my anger ease as I focused on her coos and approving words. The salty taste of sweat and the sharp aroma of her armpits were filling my senses, pushing out anything but her.

As she guided me lower, I groaned as she finally let my tongue bury in her hole. She was so wet and tasty. For several minutes she had me nurse on her pussy until her first orgasm. By the time she pulled me up, I'd forgotten everything: the loss, the forfeit, my anger. Only Marissa's pleasure remained, her gorgeous curves, her shining skin, her sweet taste on my lips.

"Let's take this inside," she said.

"Huh?"

"This is my place, Erin. This is my court."

I rolled my eyes in realization that I'd been played, of missing the obvious signs, of underestimating my mistress, but also, I rolled my eyes in anticipation of the pleasure she had planned for my mouth.

We showered together. She was gentle and caring, letting me wash her but also massaging my muscles and the rope marks. The shower was a huge walk-in with steam jets, seemingly made for 'entertainment.' She was generous with her pussy, giving me plenty of time to taste her. Grateful for her kindness, I gave her as many orgasms as she'd allow.

By the time she'd had me strapped to the four corners of her bed, I already felt connected and warm. She lazily teased me with a vibrator.

"Would you like me there when you tell them?" she said.

I had to play the words back in my head because all my attention was on the tip of the vibrator just brushing my out labia. My anxiety welled up.

"For real? Are you going to hold me to that?"

She pulled the vibrator away, making me squirm to seek it.

"Oh, my pet, do you not know me by now?"

"But they're--"

"Your best friends? The girls you tell everything to? Have you never told them about fucking Cory before?"

She had me there. "Yeah, but that was before."

She resumed stroking my outer labia. "Before me?"

"Uh huh." I squealed.

"So, are you ashamed of yourself, or Cory, or me?" She ran the vibe over the hood of my clit.

"Jesus, Marissa.... I... I... I'm afraid."

"Are they not open minded? I'm not asking you to fuck them."

"No, no, not that... I... Ooh, you're making it so hard to think."

"I think I'm making you more honest." She pressed the vibe right at the entrance, holding it. "What are you afraid of?"

"Fuck, fuck... I'm afraid that you'll... want them... too."

"There it is." She pressed in slowly. I arched my back. She pulled out. "My pet is greedy and wants to keep her mistress from playing with whomever she likes."

I moaned as she resumed the gentle tease around my vulva.

"Not that I haven't thought about it," she said. "All those pretty pussies. Those lips. Those tongues. I think a couple of them flirted with me."

"They all did, Marissa. Even if they... didn't know it. I could see how much... they... admired you." I groaned as she gave my clit a little drive-by.

"Then I definitely need to be there. And Cory too. We should have a little coming out dinner party."

"No..."

"No?" she pulled the toy away.

"No, don't stop. Please, please, I'm sorry."

She slipped the vibe inside deeper. "That's better."

I hummed in agreement. "I'll do it. I will. I promise."

"You'll keep your promise."

"Yes, mistress. Fuck." She pushed the vibe deeper, twisting it.

"Are you close, Erin."

"Uh huh. Mm."

"Almost there?"

"So close..." My legs tightened, my back and neck arched. I gripped the vibe with my pussy, almost... almost there... the tingle.

Suddenly, she pulled out. She let go. I felt my pussy contract, but the climax receded. I screamed. I couldn't move to make myself come, but I felt everything but the prize.

"Why? Why?" I flailed in frustration.

"Because, my pet," she said gently starting again with the vibe, teasing my outer lips. "You owe me."

"What... what... no please, no... I'll be good?"

"Did you not sneak a fuck with your husband?"

I groaned. She knew! Of course -- our phones. She can listen.

"Now, she gets it." She started the pattern again, the same slow, teasing circles. "She had an orgasm without permission, so she must forfeit one." She inserted the vibe again. "Plus, interest."

I lost track of how much 'interest' she extracted from me, but it was near dark before I returned home. Feeling incredibly horny and frustrated, knowing my husband's cock was locked away and that Marissa wouldn't be granting me any other relief tonight.

Before I left, Marissa gave me one way out of my forfeit. She said that since this was a marriage, I could only escape my consequence if Cory refused. After all, this involved his body, his sex life, and without his consent, there was no way Marissa would enforce the bet.

But that meant, I needed to ask him.

#

The decision weighed on me through the week. In the meantime, Cory and I were starting to feel the rhythm of our bondage: peak experiences followed by several days of anticipation. Unable to fuck each other, we either ruminated about the last scene or fantasized about the next. I think it was harder for Cory than me because I was nude around him all the time, and he had the cage. So, I knew what parts of him were off limits and he could see plainly what he was missing. And my arousal was clear (and sticky.) Most of our laundry had been comprised of towels lately.

We had time to talk about it all, which should have been my cue to bring up coming out to my friends. But I hesitated. Sure, I was nervous about the subject and how I would broach it with Tiffany, Liane, and Kylie, but I was also afraid that Cory would say no.

How would Marissa react? Would she be disappointed in me? And worse, would I respect my husband's boundaries? Because the more I thought about it, the more I longed to loop my friends in on the most profound expression of my sexuality.

The idea that they might judge me or even reject me hadn't entered my mind. I trusted them. They'd seen me at my worst. But I was probably naive.

One night Cory and I were on the couch watching a show, when I paused it. I was sitting upright and Cory had his head in my lap. This had become our happy place. He said he was content being close enough to inhale the aroma of my pussy. And I thrilled with the idea that I could torment him so readily. And the more I thought about how much he fought the desire to bury his face in my pussy, just inches from his mouth, the more excited I became, which only made the battle harder. Sometimes, he didn't even face the TV. He stared and breathed my scent like a contented pup. I petted his head softly.

"I lost a bet with Marissa," I said.

"Oh?" He didn't turn away from his favorite place, but clearly, I'd sparked something for him.

"Yeah, when we played tennis the other day."

"When she sharked you."

I slapped his head playfully. "Yes. So, the bet I lost is that I have to tell my girlfriends about us." He didn't say anything but I felt the tension in his body. "Well, three of them. But Tiffany, Liane, and Kylie are the only ones that work."

"Uh huh." His voice was weak. "Did you?"

"No. Not yet. I'm too nervous and I have to do one thing first." This time he turned his face up to mine. "I have to clear it with you." I tried my best to keep my expression neutral, but he was close enough, he could probably hear my heart beat.

"Why?"

"Well, it involves you." We shared a nervous laugh.

"Yeah, I guess it does. Do you want to?"

"I took the bet."

"That's not the same thing. We both say crazy things... in the moment."

I nodded. "But this really would affect you. I'm not ashamed of what we do. It's private, but at the same time, they're likely to find out anyway."

He rubbed his forehead. "If they know, then Ty and Cal will too."

"Yeah. Probably."

"Do Tiffany and Liane tell you about... bedroom stuff?"

"Enough. We don't give blow-by-blow accounts--" Cory laughed. "Stop it. Yes. I know things. I know enough to finish drawing the picture."

Cory stared at my chest for a moment and I realized he wasn't looking at my tits so much as imagining our friends fucking.

"Do the boys tell you?" I said.

"A bit."

"Like?"

"I know stuff the girls like. Sometimes we brag on our girls."

"Like?"

He sighed. Bro code. But he knew he had no choice but to come clean. "Like, Tiffany can deep throat and always swallows. And Liane is into spanking and anal... Sometimes. When she's had a couple beers, apparently."

"Oh. I didn't know she drank beer."

"Just when she wants..."

Didn't we all have our little tells? I was a little shocked, frankly, at how explicit his information was, although I wasn't surprised. I knew both those facts (and more) but the context was different. Tiffany told me when she wanted to make Ty come quickly, she'd gag on his cock and that always triggered him. And Liane hinted she'd be naughty for Cal, hoping he'd take her over his knee. She also liked calling him 'Daddy,' even though we all hated that term, but she 'Couldn't help it.' And Liane had once given me tips on anal, so I knew she liked it.

"What do you say about me?" He stared at me for a moment; I saw the gears spinning. "Just spill it."

"That your pussy is the best I've ever tasted. And... how much you love to fuck. Like every night almost."

This was my turn to process. "Shit, Cory."

"I'm sorry."

"No, no. It's not that. It's that I fucking miss it. I need to be fucked so badly."

He inhaled deeply. I knew why. He said, "That's her whole plan."

He was right. That's what Marissa wanted: our frustration. Let our denial fuel our enthusiasm, take us past rationality. Not that I needed a lot of provocation. I was on my best behavior when Cory and I were dating, still we fucked on our second date. And once we moved in together, I didn't hold back. Unless I was actually on my period, we were typically fucking most of the time. Fucking before usually helped and fucking afterward made up for the break. And occasionally, we fucked on my period. Cory wasn't squeamish about such things. (A point I did brag about to my friends.)

Cory was game and once we established that I loved to play, it didn't require a lot of tricks to get him going. One of my favorites was simply leaning over the kitchen counter casually, in a short skirt. "Don't move," he'd say. "Don't make me," I'd respond.

"So, your friends already think I'm a whore," I said.

"No. They think I'm a lucky son of a bitch."

"What do you want me to do, Cory?"

"I think the girls would totally understand."

"I don't know. This hits different. Like, I'd be telling them that not only do we sub for Marissa, but that I fuck other men. Even if they didn't judge me for that, they have husbands. They might worry."

"Or, they might consider it."

I laughed. "You don't know women well. Our culture does not permit women to want sex."

"Well, that's just wrong."

"Fine, let's say they take it in stride. They just accept their friend is an insatiable slut with a D/S kink. I'd hate for them to think less of you."

"Do you?"

"No. No, not at all. I think you're amazing. But some of the things we do--" He looked me in the eye, dared me to say it. "Fine, there's nothing wrong with what we do. It's all fucking sexy and fulfilling and it's now a part of our marriage that..."

"That?"

"I don't want to go without."

I had to kiss him then. It was the only thing I was permitted to comfort him. I pulled him up. We sat on the couch and made out until I was horny enough that I had to stop.

I needed an answer though. I said, "If we tell my friends, then their husbands will know and at some point, we'll be at a party or a cookout and you'll look at them and know that they know--"

"That I've sucked cock." He said, kissing me deeply. "That I've watched other men fuck you." He kissed me again, harder. "That I've swallowed the cum, they left..." He groaned and stopped. He held me close.

"Uncomfortable?"

"This fucking cage."

I petted his head and neck. "Poor baby. I wish I could help you. I wish you could help me. Because I need a cock in me right now. So badly."

He rested his forehead against mine. We breathed together.

"If they know, they know," he said. "If they reject us then maybe they're not the friends we thought they were. We're not asking them to join us."

"But what if they want to?"

We let that question linger in the air for a couple of days as I worked out how to come out to our friends. One at a time? All at once? Marissa had already suggested a party. She even wanted to be there. Cocktails might be the social lubricant required for this particular mind fuck.

And that Friday night, we had a girl's night: cocktails and clubbing. I dropped hints at first, and then spilled more details with Tiffany who then had to ask Liane if she knew, and finally Kylie was looped in. Marissa played coy. And over the course of the evening, the story expanded from Cory and I playing D/s games in the bedroom to we've actually participated in scenes with others.

At one point, late in the evening shouting over the music across the small cocktail table, Tiffany asked Marissa, "Did you know about all this?" Marissa gave me a look.

I said, "Actually... Marissa initiated us."

That took Tiffany aback. Kylie snapped a look at Marissa. She'd been nursing a little crush since the wedding. A flash of admiration and then a look to me that felt a little like envy.

Liane asked. "You mean, you let your husband--"

I nodded. "We both... enjoy it."

Jaws dropped. For a moment all three just looked at me -- wheels spinning. Finally, Tiffany raised her glass. "Well, love is a spectrum!" and downed her drink. Liane and Kylie raised theirs uncertainly and downed them.

I raised my glass. "If y'all have questions, I'm an open book."

"Clearly," Liane said and she seemed to be only half joking.

But as the drinks flowed, they started pressing for details and suddenly it felt like a slumber party where they would learn something and act scandalized but begrudgingly admiring. Kylie was fascinated by the rope bondage. Tiffany was most curious about my time with two men. "He just watched?" she said with more fascination than judgement. Liane's questions were about Cory. How did he feel about it? When did he know? I did my best but said, "You should ask him." In her expression, I wondered if she was thinking about Cal and whether he harbored any of these feelings.

Kylie was the first to ask Marissa about her thoughts, how she started, what she knew. Soon Marissa was our Queen Bee again, the tiny sage of sex.

"You have to understand," she said, "Men are steeped in a pyramid scheme we call patriarchy. They run everything but they also run nothing by themselves and subconsciously they know how little power they really have. They talk about being 'alpha', but what is that really? If they believe power is a hierarchy, then none of them are the 'alpha' because there's always one person above them. I mean who are they actually alpha to?"

Liane said, "Their wives."

"Right! That's the promise. You don't really control anything. But even if you have to be beta to other men, the patriarchy promises them they'll always be the boss in their home."

"As if," Tiffany said.

Marissa nodded. "And we pay for that." We all nodded too knowingly. "Men don't see the burden on them, they can't admit it, but they feel it. It's exhausting to them. Culture tells them they're the head of the household, they have sound judgement by virtue of simply being a man, and they have to know everything. And they feel like they can't ask questions, or learn, or anything that might make them look weak. So, it comes out. And one way it does is the need to be dominated -- safely."

Kylie laughed, "All the men on the down-low. All the men seeing dominatrices."

"No shade," Marissa said, "Sex work is honorable work. But a man who is in touch with his needs, who isn't ashamed, is also a man who can't truly be controlled by shame. That's the true alpha."

"My man!" I shouted lifting another glass. "He's a shameless submissive and I've never felt more loved and I've never... come so much in my entire life!" I kicked my feet.

Ladies at the next table looked aghast. My girls shouted. By the end of the night, there was little that they didn't know or hadn't inferred and probably a few things they made up on their own.

On the cab ride back home, the girls decided they needed to see. Tiffany said it first but Marissa encouraged it. "Fuck yeah, girls. You should see it."

Liane said she didn't know how she'd explain it to Cal, so we dropped her off at her house. Tiffany said Ty would be OK with her having a look (but not touch.) And Kylie just wanted to stay close to Marissa a bit longer. So, we stumbled into my house very early in the pre-dawn hours.

I called out to Cory. "We're not alone! Come and say, 'Hi!'"

Cory found us in the kitchen where Marissa handed out water bottles and aspirin. Cory wore a bathrobe, he'd grabbed. He saw four ladies shitfaced in slinky bodycon cocktail dresses in various states of creeping too far down or too far up. We didn't care.

Marissa said, "The ladies have a request, my pet."

There was a chorus of exaggerated "Ooohs" and laughter from us. Cory eyed us nervously, but he knew the purpose of the cocktail party. He had consented to my coming out with them. He might have even fantasized about them showing some interest. But he was wary.

I went and kissed him. "The girls told me, they have never seen a chastity cage before." He looked at me and I nodded. Then he looked at Marissa, who smiled. Kylie sat leaning against her.

"Is he wearing it now?" Kylie said. "Does he ever take it off?"

Marissa pulled out the necklace holding the key, "Not without this." The effort also pulled down the top of her dress a bit more. She was showing ample cleavage and I bit my lip.

Kylie held the key up reverently, shaking her head.

Tiffany looked at Cory, perhaps a little too hungrily. "I can't imagine he'd fit in a little cage."

"That's the point," I said, reminding everybody of my ownership. "He can't get it up, if he can't get it out." We laughed and Cory's blush gave me more flutters. "Take off the robe, dear husband."

Cory swallowed hard, undoing the tie, opening the robe and letting it drop from his shoulders to the ground.

All fell silent as we looked at my husband's cock straining inside its steel prison.

"Holy shit," Kylie said.

"Damn," Tiffany offered.

"Go, let them have a good look," I said, pushing him toward the girls.

His face red, he went first to Tiffany who looked at the cage and then to me. "Can I?" I shrugged. She looked at Cory who nodded. I noticed him shaking. "Oh, wow." Tiffany slowly traced the borders of the cage, being careful not to touch the flesh within. She seemed to be sobering by the minute. She turned to Kylie, "You should see this."

"Naw, I'm good. Dicks are not my thing. But I suppose that's the only way I'd touch one."

Marissa laughed and kissed the top of her head. Kylie blushed and nuzzled in. As she scooched closer, I saw her muff peeking out under the hem of the dress. My mouth watered.

Tiffany traced down to the ring binding Cory's balls. "Does it hurt?"

"Uh, in a good way?"

Tiffany tapped a finger on the ring. Cory shivered. She looked up. "You do like it. Being the center of attention. Your parts... on display like this. It gets you worked up?"

"I know it's weird," he said. I noticed he stole a look at Tiffany's cleavage where her dress had slid down.

She said, "No, not at all. I always knew Erin had a dark fun side. Or a fun in the dark side." We laughed. Tiffany continued tracing a finger around the cage. "I thought maybe she'd gone vanilla. But this isn't vanilla."

Marissa said, "There's plenty of unexplored territory in the dark side." I noticed she was mirroring Tiffany's hand by stroking Kylie's upper arm.

Tiffany tapped Cory's cage. "I wonder if I could get Ty into one of these."

I sighed. "It does tend to focus their mind. Especially when eating pussy."

"I like that." Tiffany sat in her seat again and I settled in next to her. Cory felt the weight of four pairs of eyes staring at his caged cock. "He's got a great body too. How often does he get to..."

"Come?" I said. Tiffany smiled. "Right now, that's up to Marissa."

"Really?"

"Yeah, one day she'll pass the key back to me. And sometimes, she lets us have free play."

"How kind," Kylie said looking up at Marissa and laughing.

"It's all about tension on the leash, dears." Marissa said. "When you don't need to lead them anymore, when you've broken them." She meaningfully at Cory. "Then you can give them back."

"In the meantime, we have fun," I said. "You're having fun, aren't you Cory?"

He looked around at us. He had to be cringing inside. To be exposed, to have your sexual life laid out for our examination, to be talked about in the third person as an object, must have been so humiliating. Yet, he licked his lips and he shifted his hips slightly. I could see all the signs of arousal. But there was one more revelation.

Marissa opened the last taboo in the box. "There's a price for coming, though. Right, Cory?"

He shifted nervously. He knew what was left to say. "Yes, mistress." His voice shook.

"What's that?" Kylie said, suddenly more alert. Tiffany gave me a glance.

"Tell them, husband," I said.

He took a deep breath and relaxed. "I must eat my cum."

"Oh, wow!" Tiffany rocked back in her seat. "Really?"

"Oh, he loves it, don't you Cory?" I said.

"Yes, ma'am."

"It's his favorite treat." I looked at the other girls. "Especially, if it's inside me."

"Oh, shit." Tiffany waved her hands over her face. We were all sober now. The whole conversation had heightened our senses. Sure, I had shared many details over the night, but through the haze of cocktails, details were starting to coalesce.

"Wait," Kylie sat up. "When you're with... other men--"

I smiled broadly and sat back in my chair, letting my knees fall apart.

Both Kylie and Tiffany turned to Cory with wonder and surprise. Tiffany broke the awkwardness. "I can't even get Ty to kiss me after a blow job."

All the girls busted out laughing. Cory suppressed a smile. The joke got to him, but the thought of Ty learning about this must have hit home. His eyes were wide. His body tense.

Marissa cut into the laughter. "Poor Cory! He's got nothing to hide anymore. But tell me, Cory, isn't it better now? Doesn't it make sense that your close friends know that you're a cum slut to an insatiable wife and a demanding mistress? Aren't you grateful that you don't have to hide this side of yourself?"

"I... I'm scared but..." He looked from Tiffany to Kylie. "I like you guys very much, and you're her best friends. I don't want her to have to hide either. And... I... trust you."

"Aw!" Tiffany and Kylie looked at each other. "Bestie's!" cried Kylie and Tiffany and I echoed her, wiggling our fingers at each other and snapping.

Marissa said, "You've done so well, my pet. You've been honest and vulnerable. This was a big leap. You could have stopped it an any time and you gutted through. Girls, I think he's earned a reward, don't you?"

"I hope that means what I think it means," Tiffany said.

"Want to let your husband out, Erin?" Marissa lifted the chain from her neck.

"Of course," I said, getting excited to see what Marissa had in mind. I took the key and leaned forward, slipping it into the lock. With a click the tension released. I opened the junction and the cage literally lifted off the base as my husband's cock finally had room to expand.

"Damn," Tiffany said as I slipped the cage off, leaving Cory nude except for the ring around his balls. I held the cage up, "Anyone want to lick the icing?" Tiffany sucked in a breath. I set the device aside.

With his cock standing out and dripping, we all turned to our queen for guidance. We knew this was her show.

"So, girls. I wouldn't ask you to do anything physical. Tiffany, you have a husband and Kylie, you're not into men. But are you OK to watch something?"

Unable to quell their curiosity, they both said yes. Tiffany was a little enthusiastic but who was I to be jealous? I had anxiety that Marissa might have Cory fuck me right here in front of them. I was excited enough that I might have been able to block out they were here. But Marissa had a different idea.

"Cory needs a reward. And we all know his favorite treat." This time I sucked in a breath, as I caught on. "Cory, is going to play with his cock for us, girls. He's going to cum -- probably quickly. And then..."

"Oh, wow," Tiffany said.

"Yes. He will show us how he cleans up after himself."

We all held still, eyes on Cory.

"He has a safe word," Marissa said. "So, if he doesn't want this, he'll use it."

In the silence, I heard Tiffany breathe heavily.

"What are you waiting for?" Marissa said.

Slowly, my husband stroked his cock. He coated his palm with pre-cum dripping off his crown. He rolled the foreskin further back. Slowly he stroked for us. All our eyes on his cock. The only sound our breathing and his slick fingers.

"Take off your dress, Erin," Marissa said. I stood up and quickly pulled the dress down in one motion, peeling it off me. Now I was completely nude in front of my friends, except for my heels and the diamond choker. Kylie's eyes were all over me. As she licked her lips, Marissa's hand slid up Kylie's thigh and touched her pussy. Kylie shivered. "Tasty, right?" Marissa said. Kylie nodded and stared at me.

Tiffany's eyes stayed on my husband's cock. "It's shorter than Ty's and about as thick," she said looking up into my husband's eyes. "He's circumcised. I didn't think I liked them uncut, but yours is... pretty."

Marissa said, "If you're enjoying the show, Tiffany, play with yourself."

As if it were her own idea, Tiffany tugged the bottom hem of her dress up and slowly started fingering her bare pussy. Cory groaned. He looked at me, almost an apology. As a reply, I kneeled by this thigh, letting him see my upturned tits and my snatch as I started rubbing myself.

"Stop, Erin" Marissa said. "This is a reward for Cory, not you."

I whimpered as I pulled my fingers out of my pussy. I stuck my fingers in my mouth before Marissa could stop me. Tiffany sighed at the act and started earnestly flicking her clit while my husband struggled to stroke slowly and carefully.

It was a challenge because Kylie was moaning now. I pulled my eyes away from my husband long enough to see Kylie grinding against Marissa's hand. I wanted it to be me. Marissa looked me in the eye, smiled and slipped three fingers deep into Kylie, making her gasp.

Fuck. I need that.

Cory's hips shook. He was getting close. One woman getting fingered. Another masturbating for him, looking directly in his eyes, and his wife kneeling on the floor, tits and pussy exposed.

"I..." he moaned.

"Wait," Marissa said.

"Oh, fuck, that's hot," Tiffany grunted.

"I'll count down, my pet. And then you can spurt all over your wife's pretty breasts. Glaze them like donuts."

He groaned and had to squeeze his cock.

I heard Tiffany chuckle at his effort. She was getting close too.

"Ten. Nine. Eight..."

Why couldn't I jerk off too? I leaned back trying to make myself a pretty target.

"Seven. Six. Five..."

Cory groaned.

"Don't spill early, or you get nothing," Marissa said. "Four. Three. Two."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Cory cursed but held on. Kylie cried out and Marissa stayed silent while we listened to Kylie come on Marissa's fingers.

As Kylie calmed and we waited. Marissa guided Kylie down between her legs. She parted her knees. Kylie moaned and nuzzled up between Marissa's thighs. Soon we heard Kylie moan with her first taste. Cory and knew that sensation well. I looked at him and he at me. He struggled not to come. I looked at his balls pulled up tight against the ring.

"Three," Marissa backtracked and we all groaned at the tease. "Two. One."

Cory cried out as he finally came. He aimed for my tits, but the first two jets sprayed my across my cheek, lips, and chin. The next hit my neck. Finally, he grunted with each spurt against my chest, dripping down my tits. When he couldn't pump any more, he squeezed the last out onto my right nipple.

"Jesus," Tiffany moaned as she closed in on her orgasm. "So much."

"Go ahead, Cory," Marissa said softly as she gave into Kylie's expert eating. "You've earned it." She put her hand on Kylie's hair, caressing her, and guiding her.

Cory dropped to his knees. He started at the bottom, near my hips where the cum was running down. He sucked it up, lapped and licked. The first time he swallowed, he looked at Tiffany who came hard at the sight of his mouth full of cum. I leaned back on my hands as he finished the job. Marissa also finally came as Cory licked his cum from the diamond choker.

"So good," she murmured as Kylie kept going. While Tiffany, Cory, and I caught our breath, we covered our awkwardness with each other by watching Kylie eat Marissa to two more screaming orgasms. I made a mental note to ask Kylie for some tips because I wanted to make Marissa scream like that.

When Marissa finally tapped out, and caught her breath, she looked at Cory and I saying, "You too are free tonight. Have fun. Cuddle, fuck, whatever you like. Leave the cage for tomorrow morning. Let me talk to these two for a bit."

Cory and I padded down the hall hand-in-hand. Behind us, we heard Marissa, speaking softly to my friends. Ah hour later, after Cory and I fucked again in our bed, I heard them leave. Cory fell asleep on top of me. I enjoyed the feeling of his cock slowly going soft and the cum pouring out. A shame to waste, but I loved more the feeling of closeness.

Later I learned Marissa spent a lot of time talking through the experience with the girls cuddled together under a couple of throw blankets. She answered their questions. She eased their minds. She gave them ideas. Mainly, she made them feel safe. So, when I saw them for coffee later in the week, we simply smiled at each other. We didn't bring it up directly, but we weren't awkward about it. I didn't know yet what Tiffany shared with Ty. And I didn't try to pry about how Kylie felt about Marissa, thought I sensed there was still a crush. Then Tiffany sipped from her latte and her upper lip was coated in foam. Kylie and I both stared at her upper lip and we all busted out laughing. Gently, Tiffany licked her upper lip clean.

#

Though Cory sometimes withdrew after scenes, he was generally better after his time in front of the girls. Maybe it was because I talked about it a lot with him, bringing up the scene during our conversations.

"Mr. Johnson seemed to enjoy coming out."

He smiled.

But occasionally, I'd catch him looking worried and ask him what was on his mind.

"Did they say anything about Ty and Cal when you met them?"

"No, not at all. I didn't ask though. I didn't want to press it." He nodded. "Are you worried they'll judge you?"

"Of course. You know it's different with guys."

"You'd think so, but then we see a different side, don't we?"

He laughed. "True."

"Are you more worried they'll think you're weak or that they'll want to fuck me?" He couldn't answer that one. "Look," I said. "Tiffany and Liane may never tell their husbands exactly because they don't want them thinking about fucking me." He had to concede that point.

One change that happened during the week is Marissa instituted a daily edging session for Cory and me. Sitting on the couch in view of the cameras -- I was almost certain one was hidden in a book on the shelf, but I didn't want to get caught searching -- I was allowed to remove my husband's cage. Then, over the course of thirty minutes, using my mouth, I needed to bring him to the brink of orgasm six times. Then Cory needed to return the 'favor' and lick my pussy for a half hour, not letting me come. The difference is that I didn't need to count out near orgasms, I was simply kept on verge the entire time.

I didn't mind teasing Cory at all. In fact, because I didn't have to get him off, I could take my time, relax my mouth, change positions and techniques. It was all very pleasurable to hear him moan and the little tap of his hand indicating he was nearly there was its own reward for me. Plus, the sweet taste of his pre-cum. And Cory seemed to enjoy licking my pussy for as long as we'd let him. Occasionally, I had to tell him to slow down or ease up, mostly because his enthusiastic slurping was getting me off. It didn't help that I would talk dirty to him during.

"If only my pussy was full of spunk." "You looked so hot jerking off for my girlfriends." "Tiffany especially loved watching you lick your cum off my tits." "I wonder how many loads you could swallow in one night."

Making him blurt out "yellow" was another reward. Knowing he might come without anyone even touching him -- just eating my pussy and hearing me talk.

Afterward, Marissa's text, "That's my girl. She's learning."

Another thing that added to the tension was that Tiffany invited us over for dinner on Friday. She didn't say anything about what Ty might know. Of course, I added that to my teasing. "She said Ty has a long cock. Tiffany says he likes to gag her with it. Would you like to hear me gag?"

"Yellow."

When the night finally arrived, during dinner, nothing was hinted at. It seemed like a normal night at Tiff's. I scanned Ty's face for any sign he knew, but he was inscrutable. He was taller than Cory with black hair and a neat beard. He had a bit of bro attitude, but maybe I was projecting my bias because I knew he was in sales. I pictured him at lunch with his clients, talking them up and bragging about his workout routine. He wasn't my type but Tiffany loved him. She said most of his personality was bluster.

After dinner, we enjoyed our cocktails and talked about work and movies and made other small talk. We sat in the living room, Tiffany and I on the love seat. Ty and Cory in chairs opposite us. Cory and I relaxed into normalcy. But after our second martini, I found myself feeling a little put out. And I had to laugh internally that I was simply too into sex now to enjoy a normal night with my friends. Cory and I even shared a private look and he smiled at the recognition.

Tiffany didn't let on either. She didn't even make sexual innuendos, which is really not like her. She typically makes jokes or flirts, but she was on her best behavior. In short, it all seemed too normal and that was filling me with more sexual tension than if we'd spent the whole night talking about my husband's submissive tendencies.

Then, as Tiffany played with the olive at the bottom of her empty martini glass, picking it up and slurping it into her mouth, she said, "You know, Ty and I have been planning a little vacation."

"Oh, yeah?" I said. Ty smiled and nodded.

Tiffany said, "Yeah, we decided we need to see Paris from the Seine."

Cory and I froze. I looked around the room. Ty looked calm, no tension at all. Tiffany looked hungry as she swallowed the rest of the olive, licking her lips. Cory avoided looking at Ty or Tiffany. I could see his nostrils flare and his face flush. My heart beat rapidly and my cheeks went red. Immediately, I felt my pussy tighten. Waterworks. Fuck, was this happening? I ran my fingers along the diamond choker. Did Marissa actually give us to them?

And was I ready for whatever would happen? Ty was smug and confident and too selfish to be a love interest. But he was interesting. And Tiffany's lips were wet and full and I remembered how fun it was to kiss them, even if only on a dare. What would this mean for our friendship? Clearly, she'd thought this through. She had the passphrase, so she'd talked to Marissa. And Marissa would have talked to both of them. That's why they were so casual and confident. They'd been waiting all evening to spring this trap. Ty knew what Cory and I were. He was ready. Was he hard? Yes, yes, he was. Shit. Did Cory see that long outline under Ty's jeans?

Cory was quiet. His eyes stayed on mine. I cocked my head posing the question silently. He blinked slowly.

I took a deep breath to steady myself and said, "You should, Tiffany. Definitely. The lights of Paris are magical."

Cory closed his eyes. Tiffany grinned broadly, leaned over and kissed me gently, saying, "I'm so glad to hear that, Erin. So is Ty. Right honey?"

Ty stroked his hand boldly along his trapped cock. "You know it, babe."

Tiffany addressed Cory. "Ty used to 'joke' that he wanted Erin as his hall pass. I guess tonight he gets his wish." She bit her lip adding, "And maybe I'll get something I've always wanted too." She looked at her husband who nodded. I wondered what Erin might be hinting at.

"Stand up, Erin," Ty said.

OK, well, dominant Ty was getting more interesting. No preamble, just direction. Setting my glass down on the end table, slowly with as much grace as I could muster despite my trepidation, I stood up and faced Ty.

"Cory," he said, "Let's us see what your wife is wearing under that."

Without a word, Cory got up and came over, standing behind me. He knew that Ty would want an unobstructed view. I marveled how easily Cory slipped into the role now. His casual submission belied only by the shaking of his hands as he unbuttoned my blouse, pulling it open, sliding it off my shoulders. I hadn't worn a bra. Ty could see my nipples harden for him. Had he been stealing glimpses of my nipples under the blouse the whole night? Now he could see the quiver of my belly anticipating. He watched my swallow under the diamond choker. I felt Cory's warm breath on my neck, moving down my naked spine as the kneeled behind me and unzipped my skirt. Knowing to tease a little, Cory slowly slid the skirt over my hips, until Ty could see my tiny pink thong. He took a deep breath and I knew he could see the darkness at the cleft where the silky cloth clung to my pussy, outlining my lips.

"Stop," Ty said. "Play with yourself."

"Yes... sir." With one hand, I rubbed one breast, pulling and pinching my nipple. With the other hand I pressed my finger over my thong between my lips, feeling the damp cloth press into me. I shivered at the pressure.

From her seat, Tiffany ran her hand over my exposed ass. "Your wife has such a nice ass, Cory." She pulled the strap of the thong to the side. "Why don't you lick her pretty asshole for us."

Cory pulled my cheeks apart and snaked his tongue deep to find my hole. "Oh, fuck!" I cried as he thrust inside.

Tiffany said, "Look at her go, Ty. Her pussy is on fire now." She continued to stroke my ass cheek as I furiously slid my finger in my sopping underwear. Ty unbuttoned his jeans. He pulled off his tee, showing a decent body. He had a little gut showing and he was hairier than I liked, but he clearly worked out. As he started to open his jeans, I make a little sound in the back of my throat. Tiffany said, "Hold on, Ty. Shouldn't we let Cory do the honors?"

"Sure, babe."

Cory's tongue went still and pulled out. I felt him press his head against my ass, a gesture of defeat and steeling for the next request.

"Cory," Tiffany said, "Show Erin what she's been missing."

"Yeah, bro. Crawl over here."

Shit, that was hot. Ty was friends through Tiffany, but Cory and he were good friends. They'd played poker together. They'd watched games and talked politics. To hear Ty's casual orders kicked in my afterburners. I ground my fingers against my clit, moaning. Erin stood and wrapped her arms around me from behind. She put her hand over mine, whispered, "Nuh, uh, uh. Not yet." She guided my fingers, moving me slowly, tortuously. My best friend was using my hand to tease my pussy. I ground my ass back against her as we watched my husband crawl, head down, to our friend's chair.

Ty looked at me and said, "Show her my cock, Cory."

Cory grabbed Ty's jeans at the hip and pulled them down, slowly Ty's cock came into view. It was nice -- long but not too thick. Keith's was the thickest I'd ever taken. Cory's was pretty and a perfect size, but Ty's was as thick as Cory but a few inches longer. What would that feel like? Where would I feel that inside me. When the head appeared, I was surprised at the width of the crown. It had been confined by his pants but now it was a thick mushroom ridge around, spongy, cut and pink. It had a deep slit that I wanted to press my tongue into.

Cory finished pulling the jeans off Ty's legs. He folded the pants and set them neatly aside, keeping his head down the whole time. I thought, this is the only way he can do this right now.

Tiffany sighed at the act. We both looked at her naked husband, cock stiffening, and my husband on all fours at Ty's feet.

"Hold it... up for her, Cory." Tiffany said

Cory looked at me first. His face red with shame, but his chest heaving with desire. He reached over and delicately held up our friend's cock for us. Tiffany sighed. Her hand pressed between my body and hers. She rubbed herself. Was this what she wanted to see? She answered my question.

"Get him ready, Cory. Get my husband hard for your wife."

Cory nodded to the floor and started slowly stroking Ty's cock.

"Get it wet," Tiffany hissed.

"Fuck," I muttered, registering my friend's desire to see my husband fluff hers. Cory looked up at Ty who wouldn't make eye contact. Ty fixed his eyes on me and Erin as she worked one hand on me and one on herself, slowly, deliberately. We were grinding together for Ty.

Watching my husband drool over Ty's cock elicited a moan from Tiffany and me, but when Ty put his hand on the back of Cory's head, preventing him from moving back, a shudder went through me. A moment of resistance and then Cory opened wide and slid his mouth slowly down on Ty's cock.

I'd seen Cory fluff my lovers and even clean their cocks after fucking me, but they were strangers -- stunt cocks as they say. This was our friend using my husband's mouth to get himself ready to fuck me. Tiffany and I were synchronizing now with our slow hand fucking, getting off watching Ty use my husband. Every time Cory pulled back, I imagined that cock pulling out of my pussy. Every time Cory sunk down a little further, I imagined it sinking into me, feeling that ridge run along my walls, finding deeper spots, the mushroom head sealing against my cervix.

Then, one time when Cory tried coming back up, Ty's hand held him. Pushed down a little more. A moment of panic flashed in my husband's face, then his throat moved. He was swallowing. He was opening up his throat. The last inches sank in and Cory closed his eyes.

"Damn." Tiffany ground her hand hard into mine. We both came. It was a shock so soon but we were both overcome my husband's submission, his skill, and the casual authority of our friend's control of him. Ty grinned holding Cory's head in place, waiting. Had Marissa trained him long ago? Had Cory always been able to deep-throat a cock? It was too fucking hot. Tiffany screamed into my shoulder as we watched my husband's face turn red, then purple. Ty waited until Cory started to shake before letting him up. Cory gasped as he did, long strings of thick spittle glazing the full length of Ty's cock and dripping from my husband's mouth. Ty pushed him aside and waived me over.

"All fours," he demanded. I dropped to the ground and Tiffany pulled my underwear over my ass and down to my knees. We left them there, binding me. They were a shade darker being soaked through. I wanted to suck that cock, but Ty turned me around. He pressed on my back. OK, then, head down, ass up. Yes, sir. I spread my knees wide.

He sighed as he ran his thick fingers up and down my needy pussy. He ran them up and down as if deciding which hole to fuck first.

"Tell me what you want," he said.

"Your cock."

"Where?"

"Anywhere. Pussy, ass, face, I don't care. I just need to be fucked."

"One at a time, then." And I felt his cock head press against my vagina. The head popped inside and I cried out.

"Oh, Jeeeesus," I moaned as he fed me that pole all the way to the hilt. I shook as I felt the fleshy head straighten my canal and finally kiss my cervix. "Holy fuck, Cory, I'm stretched all the way out."

"Oh, my god," Tiffany said to Ty. "Baby, how does it feel to finally bottom out?"

"It's so good, babe. Fuck, this pussy is perfect."

It felt so good. Not since my college days had I felt my full pussy straightened like this. I forgot how good it felt. At first Ty took his time, gently exploring a slow back and forth. All the way out, all the way in.

Tiffany's voice came from the couch. "Fuck, you should see how much she's creamed Ty's cock, Cory. It's fucking obscene. I can't take him that deep." His muffled reply made me look up. That's when I saw she and Cory were both stripped and my husband was greedily licking her pussy. His cock cage dangled below him, dripping pre-cum onto the floor. Poor thing couldn't see anything. But he could hear the squelching of my pussy as I ground back against Ty's cock.

"It's so deep, Cory. Ty's cock is so deep inside my pussy. He's going to cum so deep it'll take you so long to get it all. Are you going to fill my pussy, Ty. You gonna pump your cum deep in my pussy? You want to see Cory do it don't you Ty? You want to see him eat your cum out of my pussy, don't you Ty."

"Fuck, Erin." He groaned. He tried to slow down but I pounded back against him, grinding as he bottomed out, milking my vagina around his cock."

"Say it, Ty. Tell us you want it."

"Holy shit, yes. I want him to eat it."

"Yeah, he loves it. Cory loves eating cum. He wants to slurp your fresh cream pie. Show us his face coated in our fucking... cream."

Cory moaned into Erin's pussy. "Mm hm." Tiffany just mewled and moaned. This is what she wanted too. She never told me she had a fetish of watching a man suck another man. But she loved it. She wanted to see him eat her husband's spunk. Well, we would oblige.

"Yes, that's my good husband," I said. "Fluffing men for me. Cleaning up cum for me. Wanna show our good friends what you're good for, hubby? Wanna clean up all night long? He feels so good in me, Cory. He's hitting so many places. Oh, shit."

I groaned as I tilted and found Ty's ridge roll over a spot close to my cervix that sent a sensation through me. "Right there, Ty," I said as I moved in short strokes back and forth. "Oh, fuck, Ty I've never... fuck, Cory. No man... Please. Please don't stop. Right... there, Ty. No... other... man..." I screamed as the orgasm flooded me "Oh, Christ, what's happening..." I felt the gushing. I'd never felt so wet before.

"Oh, fuck, Ty," Tiffany moaned. "She's fucking squirting."

He couldn't help himself then. Ty pushed into me and screamed low and primal. He emptied his balls deep inside me. I felt a river flowing through me. It took me a few seconds to register that Tiffany was coming too. I turned my face to see her holding Cory's head against her snatch as she convulsed. Sweat beaded over her full breasts and down her soft belly. Cory gasped for air but kept drinking her.

"I'm gonna need that mouth real quick," I said, panting.

Tiffany shook her head a couple of times as she enjoyed my husband's expert tongue. Then she nodded, ready to see the next part.

"Crawl under, love," I said. "Ty is leaving something for you. Fuck, he's still fucking spurting." They were the last, occasional spasms of Ty's cock. He gently rubbed my back as he held himself deep inside me. I initiated the shift as I turned sideways to the couch and Ty followed, holding his cock inside me. It hadn't gone down yet. As we moved, I felt how wet my ass and thighs were from sweat and squirting and whatever cum had forced out of me. My knees actually slipped in the liquid running down my legs.

Cory snaked under me on his back. Soon I was looking at his poor caged cock. Pre-cum leaked out of this pink flesh, squeezing out of the top and sided of the steel device. I drooled over the cage. "Poor thing."

That meant Cory's face was under my pussy now. He had to be staring up at the joining of Ty and me. I wished for a picture of the slimy connection. Later I would edge Cory asking him to describe the lewd mix of fluids, the purple veiny cock halfway out and coated with frothy cream. The pink, swollen vulva, my distended shiny labia, pulled back as if to hold the cock and suck it back in, the white stream of cum running the length of Ty's cock and down his balls to drip on my husband's face. And lastly the movement, the opening, and the last glimpse of a virtual river of cum pouring out of me into Cory's open mouth before darkness closed in and I sealed against his face, letting him drink and swallow and swirl his tongue for more. "The best thing I've ever tasted," he said.

Ty and Tiffany watched my husband suck me. Ty from behind and Erin from in front. She stroked herself lightly. "So, fucking nasty," she said in awe. She looked at me, "You're so lucky."

I laughed. "Until now, I didn't know how lucky you were."

She smirked. "Ty, bring that over here." She kneeled down in front of me, licking her lips.

Ty got up and stood between us. Erin and I locked eyes as we each took a side of his cock and cleaned it. Slurping and smacking loudly for Cory's and Ty's benefit. By Cory's renewed enthusiasm between my legs, he knew what we were sharing. Erin and I enjoyed a cum coated kiss. She cooed as she tasted my cream. "Fuck, you taste good, Erin. I wish I'd tried you earlier." That stoked Ty's fire for sure.

It took a long time for Cory to clean me up. I could always tell by how he calmed down and the gentle way he licked me once he could taste only me again. His little tongue flicks reassuring himself that I was clean once again. That gave Tiffany and I plenty of bonding time over Ty's cock.

We took turned stroking and squeezing it, getting him hard again. "Come watch," I told Cory laughing at my pun and the awkward way Cory had to squeeze out from beneath me. He kneeled down next to us and watched Tiffany and I milking Ty's cock. I looked into my husband's eyes. "Ty's quite a man," I said. "I never knew." I glanced down at my husband's cock. "Ty would never lock his up."

"It would be sexy," Tiffany said winking at Ty.

"You wish," he said. "Besides, who would deny himself two gorgeous women worshiping his cock."

I shook my head, "Only my man. He knows his cock is pathetic. It needs to be locked up and trained, while better men fuck me."

Tiffany moaned and shared a kiss with me swirling out tongue over Ty's crown, tracing his urethra. I loved the way the tip of my tongue fit and pulled out sticky cum. I traced Tiffany's lips with it.

"It is a great cock, Tiffany. Thanks for sharing." I said.

"I'm glad you like sucking it," she said. "Both of you."

We all looked at Cory. We smiled at his blush. I held Ty's cock and pointed it at my husband's mouth and when he leaned forward, I pulled Ty's cock into mine. "Nuh uh." I said smiling around the meat in my mouth. I then passed it over to Erin.

"Here, honey," I said pulling Cory in for a deep kiss. "If you want to taste his cock again."

Erin passed the cock to me and leaned over to Cory, "Try this," she said kissing him deeply.

That was too much for Ty. "Oh shit, ladies. I need to come again."

"OK, baby," Tiffany said turning toward him. I followed suit so that both our faces were under his cock. "Come for us, baby"

"You two are fucking perfect," he muttered as he stroked himself over us. We looked up at him, knowing he wanted to see adoring, worshipful eyes full of hope for a big messy load.

"That cock is perfect," I said. "It reaches places Cory can't touch."

Tiffany joined. "You wanna come for us baby? Coat our faces. Cory didn't save any cum for us."

"Greedy boy," I said. Tiffany cradled Ty's balls.

"Fuck!" Ty cried as his cock erupted. It was glorious. Rope after rope spattered over her face and mine. I'd felt him spurt repeatedly inside me earlier and it was exciting to see how much he still had in him. As the spout reduced into a dribble, he rubbed his crown over our faces, spreading the cum all over. I felt it drip down my cheek and chin.

Then we turned to each other and tenderly cleaned his cock. Ty fell back in his seat and watched Erin and I lap and suck the cum from each other's faces. Sharing it with sticky kisses. Passing it back and forth. Then, I glanced over at Cory who watched us with intensity. He looked hungry. He looked beaten. And across is forehead, dripping down his hairline was a thick rope of cum.

"I guess Ty overshot," I laughed. Tiffany used her thumb to wipe it off. She held it in front of Cory's mouth waiting until he opened his mouth before sticking her thumb in my mouth. She kissed me to chase it. Slowly we slobbered and sucked, managing mainly to spread most of the come evenly over our faces before we both actively sucked each other's face as clean as we could. Then she kissed me one more time and I felt her force all the spit and cum into my mouth, joining with what I had saved. Smiling I turned to Ty and raised my eyebrows with my cheeks full.

"Holy shit, Erin," he said. "You're so fucking hot."

"We are, you mean." Tiffany said.

"No question," Ty said.

I shrugged and turned my face to Cory. I tapped on his mouth with my finger.

He closed his eyes and opened wide. Using my finger, I pressed on his forehead to lean it back as I bowed over him, aligned my mouth to his and opened. A flood of spit and cum poured into his mouth. I licked my lips and let that drip in for good measure.

"Do you want to swallow more of Ty's cum, hubby?"

He nodded afraid to look at Ty.

"Ask him, then."

Cory strained his eyes, trying to keep his face upturned. "Puh reesh," was all he could manage through the bubble of cum and spit.

Ty laughed. "Dude, I don't fucking care. Spit, swallow, it's up to you."

Cory's eyes searched mine and Tiffany's, looking for an answer or an order. Finding none, he had to decide. He closed his mouth and swallowed.

"Good boy," I cooed. "Loves his cummies."

"Fuck, Erin. I can see why you like him this way. Ty would never do that." Ty grunted at that. Getting up suddenly, she said, "I need to rehydrate."

"Me too!"

"Clearly, slut." Tiffany said and we left to grab water bottles from the kitchen. Ty helped Cory stand up and they joined us. Soon the four of us were sweating and naked sucking down our waters.

At one point, Tiffany laughed at the casual way we were all adapting to the new situation, saying, "Well, this is everything Marissa promised it to be."

"She's good at sizing things up," I said, glancing down at Ty's shlong. He wasn't a grower like Cory. It looked almost ridiculous hanging down. I liked both types I decided. There was something exciting about feeling Cory's cock grow in my mouth until it wouldn't fit any longer.

"I thought you'd like it," Tiffany said. "I knew Ty would."

"Fuck, yeah," he said.

"Fuck, yeah," I agreed. We all looked at Cory.

Tiffany shook her head. "It looked so hot in your mouth, Cory. I've always wanted to see a man suck another man."

Cory looked down, blushing.

"Geez, that thing keeps dripping like a leaky faucet," Tiffany said.

"I've been edging him all week, Tiff."

"Poor thing, deserves to come don't you think?"

"Maybe," I said.

"Well, I need him to for this next bit."

I raised my eyebrows, glanced at Cory who looked nervous again.

"Does my hubby need a pressure release?"

He shook his head. Was there a color going through his mind -- yellow? red? He kept quiet.

"OK, I've got to pee first," Tiffany announced. "Meet me back in the living room."

Tiffany and I went to the bathroom and took our turns. Before we left, she hugged me and said, "I hope you're having fun."

I nodded kissing her.

She said, "Because this is the nastiest, most intense thing Ty and I have ever done, and I don't think I can stop here."

I said, "Cory could stop it with a word, remember that. He hasn't even said slow down."

She held my face, "Ty really has always wanted to fuck you." She kissed me again deeply. "And I have always wanted to watch him." Her eyes searched mine. "I can't believe it's coming true."

"I never knew."

She shrugged her shoulders. "It would have stayed just a fantasy. Something Ty and I whispered to each other to sync our orgasms. But..."

"Marissa."

"Sweet fucking Marissa," she said, adding, "She's watching you know."

Then she took my hand and led me to the living room again. Ty sat in his chair while Cory sat on the floor. No doubt, Ty's instruction. I was going to look for Marissa's camera when Ty caught my attention. He slowly swung a chain around his finger, first one way, and then the other. It was Cory's key. Marissa had gifted them that too.

As Tiffany jumped over to Ty giving him a big kiss, she excitedly took the chain from him.

"Cory, you've been so good, we'd like to let you come for us."

He looked both hopeful and apprehensive. Nothing was ever this easy.

"Erin, you should be on all fours again. I want to see that ass high."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Cory, you get behind her on your knees."

As he did, I pondered what choices Tiffany would make. Fuck my pussy, or fuck my ass. Either was good. Cory never ate my ass with cum in it. That was probably too much even for us. Still, the idea gave me a shiver.

Tiffany unlocked the cage. I looked over my shoulder as she released his cock. It filled immediately -- hard and pink and ready. Pre-cum dripped down.

Tiffany pulled her hands away. "Ty says I can't play with it -- although it is a very nice cock -- but that's a limit and I respect it, don't I, baby?"

"Thank you," Ty said.

"But he needs a little more lubrication, doesn't he?"

Ty shrugged. Tiffany swirled her tongue in her mouth and lowered her face over my husband's cock and let a long string of drool run along its length. She closed her mouth and swallowed as if she could taste it somehow by transference. She put Cory's hand under his cock to catch the spittle. She dared to close her fingers around his before letting go.

"Just stroke over her ass for now, Cory."

I sighed and wiggled my ass for him. I heard the squishing sound as he worked his cock. The struggle to maintain control reflected in the sounds of his groans and the slow squelch with each stop back and forth.

"He won't last long," I said. "Not after tonight, anyway."

Cory moaned as Ty, Tiffany, and I chuckled at his plight. I couldn't help it. No, he wasn't a true cuck, but he did love seeing me fucked. He wanted the humiliation while it happened. All of that with the hope of finally joining with me at the end of it. The careful cleaning, the reclamation of his wife. The cuddle after the gang bang, if you will. He needed the depths to reach the heights. But would he have to reclaim me here, in front of our friends? I squirmed a little hoping for either outcome (so to speak.)

"No need to hold out, Cory," Tiffany said, "I know your balls are aching."

"I want to last for her," he said. (So sad.)

Tiffany said, "You want your cum in her so bad, Cory."

"Mm hmm."

"But is your cum good enough for her, Cory?"

Cory and I both answered, "No," and I laughed. Tiffany was really getting into it, playing with her pussy and stroking her husband while they watched Cory jerk off over my ass.

"If you could have your cum in either hole, which would it be?" Tiffany taunted.

Cory groaned at the thought that either would be an option.

"Don't stop stroking, Cory. You have to decide. Ass or pussy?"

Cory's whine caught in his throat. He struggled to keep stroking, wanting to fuck his wife, getting to choose which hole to fuck.

"My ass is ready, Cory, if that helps. It's always ready." I offered with a wiggle.

"Jesus," he groaned.

"But if it's my ass, you wouldn't get to eat it."

"Or would he?" Tiffany said. "That would be especially nasty."

"F-f-fuck," Cory strained. I bent forward, tilted up my pelvis, pointed my knees in to open my ass up. Two needy holes. "Goddamn, Erin."

"Don't come too soon, Cory," Tiffany said. "That would be fucking pathetic."

"Oh, Cory, don't disappoint me. Don't spill your load before you fucked my greedy holes, not after you cleaned up so good. Ate all your friend's thick, nasty spunk, like a sad loser--"

"Tell, us pervert. Where do you want your cum?" Tiffany said. "Quickly! Ass or pussy."

"Ass. Ass. Please."

I was cut off by his scream. But I caught on that this is what Tiffany wanted. Make my husband come before he got a chance to fuck his wife, before he could reclaim her in front of the couple, from the man who come inside his wife and all over her face. I felt Cory's spurts warm against my ass crack and cheeks. He tried to press in but as soon as his cock bumped against my asshole, it was too late, he held against my asshole, cum pumping all over my crack as he begged forgiveness.

"What the fuck?" I said. "You made a mess all over my ass and didn't even fuck it?"

"I'll clean it up," he begged.

"No. No. No." Tiffany said as she stood up. "We asked where you wanted your cum and you chose ass. We can't disappoint Erin further, can we?"

He burbled and begged and I think he may even have been crying, but I simply enjoyed the power of feeling his spent load dripping worthlessly down my ass crack.

Tiffany said, "Honey, I think you need to help us out here. Can you finish the job and get Cory's cum inside Erin's ass like Cory wanted?"

"Holy shit," I cried as Tiffany demonstrated by sliding her fingers through the mess and pressing one slowly inside my asshole.

"Good girl," she said as Ty moved behind me. Cory was somewhere to the side. It didn't matter. Her finger felt too good. Ty's cock would feel better. She added as second finger. "Open up, baby. Relax. Yes, let's put Cory's cum deep inside your ass. Ty's going to straighten you all the way out."

"Oh, please, please. Yes." I wiggled against her fingers. I bore down on them as she gently stretched them open. Then I felt the absence as she withdrew and my little hole ached for more. And Ty pressed that fucking thick head against my asshole and pressed in before my hole could close. I moaned loud and long as he worked slowly into me. As he pulled out, Tiffany rubbed more of my husband's copious cum around Ty's cock.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I cried. "Fuck my ass with my husband's pathetic spunk."

Cory groaned, prompting Tiffany to toss him the cage. "Put that on before you get hard again watching your friend fuck your wife's hungry ass."

"Yes, ma'am," was the whimper behind me as Ty's pubic bone pressed against my tailbone.

"Fucking perfect," I moaned into the floor pushing back against him.

"I'll say," Tiffany said, her hand sliding around my hip to press her fingers against my clit.

"Jesus, yes," I cried.

"Fuck, him Erin. Fuck him until you come again. Then fuck him until he comes again."

I swore some more. I swore each time I pulled forward and thrust back on his cock. It felt so full, so deep. I rocked back so hard Ty had to grab hold of the couch to balance himself. Tiffany's fingers were relentless on my clit. I was almost beyond feeling -- just white-hot need. Her fingers were soaked and sliding everywhere. I couldn't tell where they were going next. All my synapses were begging for consistent touch.

Only when Ty started grunting rhythmically with each thrust back against him, in time with the squish, squish of Cory's cum forced into me, did she begin finding a pattern, circling my clit, pulling on the distended hood.

"Please. Please. Please." Then I came. And then Ty came. God, I loved the feeling of spunk filling me up -- ass, pussy, mouth, all were special. I screamed and screamed as Tiffany refused to surrender, letting each grunt from Ty elicit another scream from me. He collapsed on top of me and I dropped down prone to the floor, exhausted. His long cock, rooted in me as he whispered in my ear, "So fucking good. Better than I dreamed. I love your fucking ass."

We lay there a sweaty mess and Tiffany curled up next to us. She brushed the hair from my face as I turned my face to hers. She looked lovingly into my eyes. "Thanks for giving that to my man." I blinked, the only strength I had left. "He loves anal, Erin. But I just can't take him. But... look at you."

"I'm a fucking slut," I said.

She nodded. "A sexy fucking ass slut with a sexy cumslut husband."

I blew out a sigh. Truer words...

She turned onto her back. "One more question, Cory."

"Yes, ma'am." His voice was shaky behind me. I'd think it was fear but I knew it was also full of desire.

She said, "You are back in your cage because you couldn't hold out. You couldn't make your wife's ass happy like Ty could. That's just sad."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You were supposed to reclaim her. You even got to pick how. And you failed."

"Yes, ma'am."

"But we'll let you out one more time. But only if you show us you want to."

"Oh, please."

"You just have to... clean up."

I heard his rattled breath.

"And then we'll unlock you and you can spend the rest of the night in the guest room. Cuddle and... cry, if you need to."

"But..."

"I know. Her ass is so full of Ty's spunk. But it's his third load. He's never done more than four in a night... with me. So, there's not as much, but it's up to you." She tapped Ty's shoulder. "Maybe if you took a look." Ty rolled off and pulled out. I gasped at the sudden emptiness. I lay there on my belly with my ass gaping, feeling the cum begin to drip.

"Holy fuck," Cory gasped.

"But if you don't clean up. You sleep in the guest room and Ty and I put your wife's mouth to use all night."

In seconds I felt Cory's face pressed between my cheeks. He slobbered and licked. I was glad I had prepped so well. I squeezed out a little more and he lapped it up. I squeezed again. He drank cum from my asshole like a refillable cup. Then when I thought I was empty and could squeeze no more, he lapped and cleaned my ass, while Ty and Tiffany slowly picked up around us. She petted my head as I gave into the tongue bath.

"We want to do this again, if we can," she said.

"Whatever Marissa wants," I muttered.

Later, as I spooned Cory in the guest bed, showered and clean once more, I caressed his hair and murmured in his ear how much I loved him. How much I loved us. I said, "You made all the right choices, hubby."

"Thank you, Erin."

"What will she think of next?"

"I don't care, as long as I end up here with you at the end."

#

"This is a night for decisions, my pets."

Marissa spoke to us holding her glass of wine as we stood in her foyer. We'd spent the week after Tiffany and Ty with our now standard edging practice. Marissa's invitation came the following night, so the anticipation had built to feverish intensity. Frankly, I hadn't had enough of our mistress. While she was a daily presence in our life, watching us remotely, sending messages to praise or correct us, aligning 'dates' for us, I didn't have my fill of her and neither had Cory.

She had owned him before he met me and now she had him back. Our marriage was co-opted from day one by her and I regretted nothing. She was the most attractive woman I'd ever known: sexy, powerful, competitive. I couldn't even say I shared my husband with her because he was hers anytime she wanted. Jealousy only fueled my desire. I strove to top her even as he continually topped me and repeatedly showed me for the slut I was.

Her attire tonight did nothing to diminish our desire. She greeted us at the door in a a transparent dotted black body suit. Every square inch of her soft brown skin exposed under the fabric. Her round breasts and dark nipples pierced by gold bars glinted beneath the cloth. The delicate hairs on her mid-line, tracing down to the soft patch of hair on her vulva. Her puffy nether lips, flashed pink and wet. Had she been touching herself? I wanted to suck the two damp fingers curled up the bowl of her wine glass to find out. I envied the glass its kiss of lipstick stolen from her full lips. Her beat was perfect glam: dark red lip, a smokey eye. The movement of the door closing behind curled the air up around us and I inhaled the mix of aromas from her -- the light spice of perfume, the honey almond scent of her pussy, the ocean scent of salt from her skin, the hint of acid from her feet in high heels, and the faintest note of umami of her underarms and neck. I'd traced them all with my kisses. I'd licked and savored each place. Finally, the necklace: a long chain holding a single key, returned dutifully to her.

Her announcement weighed on us as she turned to go into the house. We watched her ass cheeks sway under the fabric. I took her in from ankle to neck: the dimples above her ass, the smooth chain of her spine, the bounce of her black curls brushing her neck, the way I wanted to brush my fingers there.

In the main room, she poured us a glass of wine, looking us up and down before wagging her finger at the two of us in a clear signal to erase those clothes.

We stripped immediately. I stood in the cool air, conscious of the wall of glass overlooking the surrounding valley. The pinpoints of light outside could each be a home looking up at us. Surely someone had pointed a telescope at Marissa's modern home, if only to watch her strut around semi-nude. Who knows what other treats they spied.

Cory and I were completely hairless below the neck. We'd carefully exfoliated and moisturized, mainly just as excuse to touch each other. I'd helped Cory by removing his cage to give him a fresh shave: cock, balls, and ass. Then we needed to give his balls an ice bath to get him locked back up again. Every part of us was clean and ready to receive -- well, anything.

Marissa ran her fingers over us each in turn, checking, tutting, praising. The long slow strokes firing all our nerve endings. She traced the diamonds of the choker she gave me, the symbol of ownership. She slipped two fingers into my wet pussy and hummed lightly as she twisted them inside. Then she teased my asshole with the same two fingers as I suppressed a moan of pleasure.

"I've watched that video of you eating Erin's ass, so many times, Cory. So nasty."

I shivered. I had struggled a bit after -- more so than Cory, I think. I needed his reassurance because it was such a big taboo for me. But he kept reassuring me that it was OK. We had prepared well. Anything consensual between two people was sacred. But knowing that Marissa approved, that she'd even masturbated watching the act, helped me relax. It was degrading but so fucking hot. That it was Ty's cum only sharpened the memory.

"My newlyweds," she said, standing back to admire her work. "You've done so much for me over the weeks. Erin has fucked many men. Cory has swallowed so much cum. You've given me your mouths, your asses. I've given them to others. Each time you have accepted, adapted, and even exceeded expectations."

"Thank you, mistress," I said, my voice shaking.

"Thank you," Cory added

"Erin, I've told you that in order to be Cory's key holder," she fiddled with the necklace for emphasis. "You needed to learn how to submit. You needed to feel the ache your husband feels in order to empathize with his desire. His need is a delicate thing. Shame destroys when it is left without comfort, reassurance."

"Yes, mistress." In all my moments of submission, I'd been able to feel the overwhelm, the anxiety, and even the panic. And I knew how it brought me down to the raw desire to consume, to lose all conscious thought and simply feel. I envied Cory's ability to act without thought, to drop into that submissive state, to serve without ego, to give without limits or promise of return. But also, I understood the fragile nature afterward as you crawled back into your mind and faced the reality of the acts. Had I really done that? Had I really said those terrible things? Had I truly gone so feral in my passion? That helped me appreciate the work, the caring, and the planning that went into owning my husband's release, in guiding his submission and lifting him up afterward.

"So, my darlings, I have one last test for you. Care to join me in my dungeon?" She downed her glass and turned to walk away. Cory and I toasted each other, finished the last swallow (of wine) and followed her, mesmerized by her swaying ass and the clack of her heels down the staircase.

My image of a dungeon -- cauldrons and whips -- vanished as we were led to the simple concrete-walled, windowless room two stories down. There was a single open door on the other side and I could see a walk-in shower and bath. I suppose you could hose the entire room down to clean it. In the center of the room was a platform with cushions that must serve as a bed. It had rings I imagined were for tying off a victim. On another broad bench with roller wheels was something that looked like a big drying rack for clothes, parallel bars and hinges.

Marissa sat casually on the center platform, swinging her feet and smiling as we took in the room. "What do you think, my pets? You like my playroom?"

"I don't know what any of this does."

"Yeah." She laughed. "That's part of the fun." Marissa walked over to the 'laundry rack.' "Care to find out what this is, Erin?"

"Yes, mistress." I stepped closer.

"It's a fun little restraint." She pulled the bench out in front of me. She pulled the bars apart and said, "Kneel up here." She helped me up on the bench in front of the rack. She adjusted the bars and soon I saw my ankles aligned with pads under the bar. She moved that over my legs, pinning them to the bench. I felt a spike of claustrophobia. Suddenly, I was locked in the kneeling position and the rest of the rack pressed against my torso.

"Hands up," she said tapping on the top bar. Using simple Velcro loops, she locked my arms to the top bar so that I was essentially kneeling arms wide. She looked at Cory. "You like?"

"Yes, mistress," he said. His eyes were wide taking in each move, anticipating the next.

"How are you feeling, Erin?"

I took a moment. "I... I'm OK. A little nervous."

"Of course. This is a little advanced, I admit. Are you up for the challenge?'

That got me. A 'challenge.' My competitive spirit was triggered. You won't break me easily, Marissa.

"Good. Good. You remember your safe words."

"Of course."

"So, this next part counts on your flexibility. We'll go at your pace. Try to relax." I nodded nervously as she pushed back on the rack against my torso, slowly leaning me back. Essentially, every time I leaned back, she brought the rack down to meet me.

"Yellow."

She stopped. "Good girl." I realized now where this was heading. The device would bend me back, pinning me in a back bend with my pussy fully open, my breasts pointing straight up, and my head back by my heels. I could do the position easily without the rack, but I wouldn't be able to control it, come out of it, and I would be completely accessible and helpless while in it. But I wanted to show I was game.

"You can get me out quickly?"

"It only takes a few seconds." She snapped her fingers.

"Green."

Gently, she guided me back, back, back. The stretch was amazing. As my back reached the bench, she tucked a cushion there, which helped me relax. I felt my knees extend, but I had good flexibility and no pain. When my head got to the back of the bench, she adjusted a lever to adjust a headrest.

"Wow." I turned to Cory on hearing his voice. I felt my pussy contract as I thought how he saw me, pinned back, arms wide, and fully open for anything. He swallowed hard.

Marissa talked through the finer points. "Now, my dear, in this device, you are the perfect party favor. Imagine this upstairs as a houseful of guests, touch you, play with you. I have an assortment of toys they can use on you -- in you. Plus, the sensation toys: feathers, fur, crops, whatever. Blindfolds add intensity, but it's also fun to watch guests choose what to do. The look in their eyes as they decide." She shivered. "It's so much fun."

She adjusted the lever and my head gently dropped back, stretching my throat.

"And, of course, they can choose to fuck you. Anywhere. Care to try, Cory?"

"Uh..."

"Oh, that's right, the cage. Well, now that Erin's locked away, we can let you loose." She went over, kneeled down and opened the lock on his cage. He sighed as he felt the release. His cock stretched out quickly and I confess, my mouth watered. She encouraged him over, "Go, try her out. She needs the full experience."

My face was red with blood. I felt my sinuses open. He hesitated a little less than I hoped. He stood by my face. I saw his crotch upside down, his cock sticking straight out. Then he guided himself into my mouth. He sighed as he pressed slowly in. I knew he wouldn't stop. I used his swallowing trick to ease him into the back of my throat, breathing deeply through my nose before his cock cut off my air.

"Jesus," he moaned as I massaged him with my throat. He pulled out and I gasped. Thick drool ran out of the corner of my mouth and down my neck. He walked around and pushed his cock into my pussy. With the blood rushing to my head and feeling completely vulnerable, the sensation was otherworldly. I was truly just an open fuck hole.

Cory enjoyed himself. Marissa's early training, helping him control was paying off. He pressed in an out of me, hitting different places due to my position. He gently toyed with my clit, teasing me, bringing me closer to orgasm. What would that be like? To be upstairs, the center of attention. To have my mouth and pussy filled. To have my outstretched hands holding cocks. My body coated with cum as guest after guest jerked off over me, or filled my pussy, or came on my face, or pumped their loads into my mouth as I struggled to swallow it all, most of it a constant stream dripping down the back of my neck into my hair, dripping on the floor. Cory watching it all helplessly. Standing by to make me clean. Holy fuck, I was going to come.

"That's enough, Cory." Marissa gently lifted my head and set the lever to keep it level. I groaned as he pulled out. I caught my breath as Marissa took him by the cock and led him over to the platform. She sat back and stroked his cock. Licking her hand, she winked at me. "So tasty." Then she looked Cory in the eye and I caught something less like my mistress in her gaze. She was open and loving. My heart beat faster.

She said, "Erin loves me, you know." Cory looked at me, a look of pain in his eyes. My face flushed to realize she was right. I'd voiced it to both of them, but it was true. I wanted her in our life. I needed her in a way that I couldn't describe. She was my better in so many ways. She was all the things I wanted to be. I felt like I would always be chasing her. She was with Cory before me and now she had him again and I was metaphorically and literally incapable of stopping her. I knew he wanted her. He tried to block that part of him that served her once. When she rejected his offer of marriage and left him, he suppressed all those desires to submit, to watch, to obey. And now he had it back and not only that, his wife was hers too.

Marissa kissed Cory. It was a knife in my belly watching him kiss her back. She said, "I love you too, Cory. I love you both in different ways. Erin was so easy to turn. Easier than you. She's a perfect fuck toy -- controllable and eager."

"Fuck, Marissa, I can't believe you." He kissed her again. "You're fucking diabolical."

"I regretted leaving you, Cory. No one has been so good for me. Only Erin has come close. And she's brought me so many new... friends." She leaned back on the platform, pulled Cory over her, unsnapped the crotch of her body suit, guided him in.

"Holy fuck, Marissa."

Not 'mistress'. He called her by her name. He groaned as he slid into her. She must have been soaking wet. His cock still slathered with my spit and cream. Tears dripped off my cheek as I twisted my head to watch them. More than the force of his grinding into her pussy -- the taste flashed into my mind -- it was the look in their eyes. Like they were alone in the room together. I was furniture, a discarded sex toy.

And I ached for it. Each kiss, each caress he gave her and not to me. Each murmured word of praise she gave him, and not me. All of that excited me. I wanted more. Deeper than the shame of being a slut, greater than the desire to be fucked over and over, was the realization that I craved her taking my man from me.

They were making love now, Marissa's legs wrapped around his hips, guiding him deeper. Their eyes locked. This is what they looked like years ago when he wanted her more than anything and she refused to be locked down.

Like I was -- locked down watching them. Suddenly, I felt what he must have felt, helpless. This was my husband's state, the need to be confined, controlled, humbled, and taken. All my openings waited to be filled and if not by him, then anybody. Let me be consumed so I don't have to feel this ache to be with her, to be with him.

She moaned, "I missed this, baby. I missed us so much. I don't know why I walked away when I could have had your adoration. I thought I could get it anytime. But... mm. Fuck that feels good, baby. Make me come on your cock, baby."

Yes, I thought, make her come. I want to see her come. I wish someone was fucking me now while I watch you take her, make her yours. Then she came. She mewled and thrashed her head and he kept stroking. He could go all night. She taught him that.

Then I felt the other side, the frustration, the anger. I wanted you. I wanted my husband. I want to be the one to own him, to make him beg, to suck my pussy, to eat his cum. That's mine. That's my man.

How could I want both to be Marissa's slave and my husband's mistress? How would I square needing to be a slut and wanting my husband's submission. Marissa told me that first night on our honeymoon that I'm a 'switch.' I understood. Yes, swing from top to bottom and back again. Flick my switch on and off, Cory. Don't leave me like this, helpless like you, unable to choose like you, willing to be without a will at all.

Marissa came down from her orgasm and they stayed in rhythm. Fuck, they could go all night. Who wouldn't prefer that? She said, "Cory, you know I love Erin, but you could have me back." She pressed her hands to the side of his face, "Only me. If you wanted." He began grunting harder into her. "We could keep her. She's broken now, Cory. We could keep her for fun. Our party favor. Would you like that? To be mine again for real?"

He groaned; he pumped again, and again.

He stopped. "Yellow!"

Panting he looked down at her. My heart stopped. My breath froze. Through watery eyes, he begged, "Yellow," again.

"Please," I thought. Not knowing what I wanted him to choose.

Slowly, he shook his head. "Erin's... the love of my life. I adore you. I do. We both do. We would do anything for you. I will do anything you ask. But..." He turned to me. "I want to end my nights with you."

I sobbed. He was right. No matter what we did, I wanted to end every night, until my last night, in his arms. We would grow old. The sex, the dominance games, would last as long as we were able, but on our last night we could still hold each other.

"Good boy," Marissa said.

He turned to her, surprised, confused. She caressed his face. "She would always wonder, Cory."

Slowly, she used her heels to pull him back into her. Shocked but the light dawning, he slowly returned to fucking her, slowly, as if fucking would clarify things, while I cried tears. Tears of relief.

She knew. My inner voices were as competitive as I was. They would fight forever for dominance and I would never be certain. Was she better than me? Would I ever measure up? Did he love her more than he loved me?

She gave him the last temptation: choose her and make me their plaything, or choose me and play together for the rest of our lives. And Cory, at any other time, would not choose freely if it meant disappointing a woman. She had to give him everything and make him feel what that would be like. And he turned away. For me.

Marissa came again and again. I watched and cheered as she finally told him to come. He collapsed beside her and watched through half-lidded eyes as Marissa, rose from the platform, walked to me, lowered my headrest, and sealed her dripping pussy over my face. The last thing I saw was the tenderness in her eyes. I drank their cum, fulfilling one more rite of passage. She fed him back to me. I reclaimed her as he reclaimed me so many times.

And when she released me, she massaged all my sore muscles and soothed my tension. "I won't let you go, Erin. I love you too, you know. I will never come between you and Cory, but I hope to come with you as long as you'll have me." I kissed her. In devotion, in thanks, in desire, I kissed her as the lovers we were.

Finally, she led us into a guest bedroom, and draping the key chain over my neck, across the choker, told me, "He is truly your man, Erin."

As she was closing the door, she added with a wink, "But tomorrow, we should play tennis again."

Cory and I collapsed together and spooned until morning. I dreamed of beating Marissa 6-0 nude in the sunshine with Cory as the trophy. "Oh, the things we will do to you," I murmured, without knowing who I meant.