Is This the Real Life?

[Don Jetman]

Is This the Real Life?

By Don Jetman



Is this the real life?
Is this just fantasy?
Caught in a landslide...
No escape from reality.
Open your eyes -
Look up to the skies and see...

~*~

It didn't begin like this. Not that I wasn't aware of L's submission to Dave, and his
adept skill at dominating her. Well, not dominating, exactly. It was automatic - L's
willingness to place her body in his hands at first sight, although sometimes I
thought it was her soul as well. We had visited him as a couple before, and I had
watched her become his sex toy long ago. I had allowed it, had even enjoyed it and
masturbated to the actual act of Dave fucking her and to afterthoughts of what they
may be doing in my absence. This time should have been no different.

L had spent two days with him before I arrived. I wasn't surprised to find her naked,
swaying her little behind and prancing almost gleefully through his house. Her grin,
the body posture, and the teasing light in her eyes were telltale signs she had been
taking Dave's cock every night. He always shaved her there, and it wasn't lost on me
that her pussy was red and swollen when I first saw her. I knew it was his way of
implying that they had sex every hour of the day, but I was sure he timed their last
fuck session to show me the aftermath the instant I arrived. In any case, it was an
in-your-face display - her labia were engorged and fiery red, unfolding as wide,
thick wings on each side of her little slit.

Days later he made it very clear - or maybe they did - that nothing was off the table.
But first they led me down the path. They prepared me for it. Letting me think that
"normal" meant the usual kinky ownership of L by Dave. I bought all of it, as usual.
Her relaxed nudity in front of him, the blowjobs she volunteered in the middle of the
day so I could watch him cum in her mouth and see her swallow it. The teasing as L
climbed the stairs with him to his bedroom every night with that smile that said,
"He's going to fuck me so many times tonight - don't you wish you could?"

The party was the tipping point. The push to the edge of the envelope and beyond.
Agreements dissolved without warning. Thrown in my face in the presence of others.
Knowing I couldn't lose my shit in front of them. I almost did. But my usual "Spock"
as L calls it, took over and held me dangling over a cliff of disbelief. Not
struggling, or flailing, but paralyzed by the system shock and incredible arousal.

[Don Jetman]

~Thursday~

They had picked me up at the airport on the 4th, a sweltering, muggy day, even early
in the morning. We stopped at a sprawling nearby mall, circled for a parking spot,
and pushed through the crowd of shoppers inside.

It didn't bother me that L and Dave held hands as we walked - it was a common thing,
especially when he could show me he owned her on his home turf. But we used to live
in this city and the risk of meeting an old friend or two was always on my mind.
Contrary to what she might have felt when we lived here, L didn't seem to care at
all.

I knew what was in store for me - Dave loved buying her clothes when I was with them.
Honestly, I think he loved showing her off more, especially as I watched them
together. We hit the major department stores first, and I stood by as L took her time
trying on what seemed like every summer blouse and pair of shorts she could find.
She'd come out of the dressing room, Dave would fawn over her, touch and paw her
through her new clothes, and hold the growing collection until she was finished. I
was used to all of it, but it was still angsty - me as an outsider watching them as a
couple. L became better and better at playing his wife or girlfriend, and I had to
wonder at times if she actually believed it.

We made our way to an upscale anchor store where Dave chose a few summer dresses for
her. Some were housewifey, with modest lines and lengths - flowery patterns on light,
cool fabric. And some were less modest, barely covering her breasts, a thin strip of
ruffled elastic the only means of keeping her decent. Some were so short I wondered
how she'd sit in mixed company without causing a scandal. But I guessed that was the
point.

I was never at ease in Victoria's Secret, especially when L was with me. The sales
girls always treated me like a clueless husband, and L rarely liked what I found sexy
(or maybe was just too embarrassed to buy it). Dave always made an entrance like he
owned the place. The sales girls seemed to fight over who would help L, and he never
shied away from targeting the raciest bits of lingerie in the store. I followed
behind them as he chose half-bras, panties, and a few pieces of lingerie L would
never have chosen herself. He'd tell her how hot she'd look in this or that, and
she'd accept his decision, although she still looked a bit embarrassed by his
comments about her body in public. God knows what anyone thought about the guy with
them standing quietly by while they chose tiny scraps of cloth that would certainly
ignite their fuck sessions later that night. If they only knew.

These moments are special to me. Yes, they are a mix of angst and excitement, and the
awkwardness I feel at the time isn't without a bit of nervousness. But L became a
different person, a woman I didn't recognize as my wife. In fact, she wasn't my wife
here. Back home, L was assertive, independent, and fiercely feminist. She was a
perfectionist at work, and as "proper" publicly as a wife could seem to be. Yes,
there was a playfulness, and at times a raw hunger in the way she wanted sex, but she
wasn't "owned" by me, or anyone else. Her willingness to be possessed by Dave turned
me inside out. She'd simply do anything for him. She had fucked boys and men he had
provided, had sex with a stranger in front of his audience, and flaunted her carefree
intimacy with him without a fleeting trace of concern. It was the stark contrast in
her that excited me. At times it was embarrassing, or even humiliating when others
found amusement or arousal in her temporary abandonment of our marriage, and in fact
in her shedding of all decency if Dave willed it. But she also became this sexy,
fearless, siren, even if she wasn't "mine". No risks were too great, no act too
shameless. She was, in Dave's hands, my fantasy - hell, most likely all men's
fantasy. But how many men could have this fantasy as their wife, even if it was only
now and then when her Svengali worked his magic? And yet, some of that magic always
stayed with her, as if after each time he touched her, kissed her, and buried his
cock in her, a part of the siren refused to leave and came home with me. It was
always a barely perceptible glimmer, a wider grin when she groped my cock in public,
or a more desperate, hissing volley of expletives when she rode my cock in bed. Over
the years, those magical moments of sheer joy and satisfaction she's taken from
Dave, well, she shares all that with me. And I own all of it every time we fuck.

We stopped for lunch at an outdoor cafe known for its seafood and deli sandwiches. We
sat at a small, round, high-top table just a few feet from others like it. The cafe
wasn't busy, and the service was faster than I expected. L wore one of her new
outfits - a pair of white shorts and a checkered red, white, and blue top, fitting
for the holiday. Dave had insisted that she try on a size smaller blouse that she was
used to wearing. It was snug, but I liked the way it fit her. It was obvious she
wasn't wearing a bra, and now and then the spaces between the buttons opened to
reveal the inner curve of her breast. She looked fresh and delicious. I was drooling,
and a little hard for her.

Dave saw me staring at the openings in her blouse, reached over, and opened a second
button. Her nipples were nearly showing, and her breasts heaved into the opening with
each breath. Yet she didn't seem to mind, or show a hint of modesty - in fact she
didn't react at all. He moved his chair closer to L as we ate, and I saw his hand
disappear below the table into L's lap, then down along her bare inner thigh.

"They are wonderful, aren't they, Don? I love how hard her nipples get when I suck on
them. Do you do that? Do they stiffen right away for you too?"

More than anything, I wanted him to lower his voice. I glanced around at the empty
tables close to us, then told him that, yes, they always have, even back when we
dated. He smiled, and I saw L's eyes widen, just briefly.

"She gets wet just as quickly too, doesn't she? I mean, really, really, dripping
wet."

He raised his hand above the table to show me two glistening fingers, wet with L's
juices.

"Do you ever do that, Don? Play with her pussy while she eats? I mean, in public,
just like this. Did you know she's asked me to do it now every time we get the
chance? In public? I think she wants men to see her like this - all wet and ready for
sex. I'm pretty sure you like to see her hungry for it too, don't you, Don? Ready to
fuck any guy who might flirt with her?"

I assured him I did. L ignored us and finished her shrimp boat, finally licking her
fingers clean as she looked me in the eye. No smile or grin from her. Just a sober
stare.

[Don Jetman]

~*~


Back at his place I helped Dave unload the food, wine, and liquor we had picked up on
the way. This wasn't the first 4th of July party we had enjoyed here, but now we felt
like our part in it was more like that of his regulars, his core group of couples who
were practically friends by now. L was already naked, and I caught brief glimpses of
her each time we opened the door to carry the groceries and booze inside. I wondered
if his neighbor mowing the grass across the street had seen her too - in fact, if any
of Dave's neighbors had seen what goes on at his parties, including what he and L did
together when I wasn't there. Anyway, he never seemed concerned, and L never brought
it up.

When L disappeared to get dressed I obsessed about how many new men would be there
to flirt with her that night. I knew she had been especially horny for weeks, and her
submissive side was clawing to escape. She had wanted me to tie her to the bed and
fuck her just a few nights before, and as much as I tried to play the Dom, it hadn't
worked for her all that well, and I felt silly failing at the attempt. But I think we
both knew it before we started. We had tried it a few times in the past, and L could
finally orgasm, but she admitted that in her mind, I was "the nice guy, not a bad
boy". She went on at length back then, I think as a kind of apology, how she thought
of me as kind and sensitive, too much a "husband" to be convincing as a real Dom.
"You know I love you, Don, but you're just not the type."

I understood, and in fact I agreed with her, but at the same time I envied those guys,
the men who made her wet when they simply walked up to her, told her they were
going to fuck her, and stole her from me for the minutes or hours it took to cum in
her. She had grown to love that, that she could use the guy then discard him like a
piece of meat, and come back to me like she was entitled to his body, and he was
entitled to fuck my wife. I was genuinely surprised at how easily she had said it
- "like a piece of meat" - from the lips of my professional, feminist wife everyone
knew by day. I think it was the first stabbing sense I had of how suddenly her
cravings escalated at times. It shocked me - and made me hard.

There were fewer guests than Dave's past parties, and the many of the couples were
those we had met before. Vanilla Couple: the cute blond school teacher wife and her
accountant husband. Gym Rat Couple: the petite, extraverted hardbody and her huge
bodybuilder husband. Lolita Couple: the distinguished, graying older man with his
much younger trophy wife dressed (or more like undressed) in the sluttiest "little-
girl" outfits he could find for her. And Ping. Ping was the tall, gorgeous Asian who
had shown me her cuckoldress skills in the past as L was enjoying what she does at
these parties - fucking other men. Ping's older husband was the archetypal cuckold -
impotent, completely subservient to her whims, and obsessed with watching men do to
Ping anything and everything he couldn't. He had been sick, so Ping was there by
herself that night. She was still mouthwatering in her red, skintight sheath dress
with a slit that opened to her hip. At least I'd have someone to talk to while L
flirted with a few of the single men she hadn't met before.

Time passed as we ate and drank into the night. As in the past, everyone moved
outside by the pool to watch the fireworks explode far over the tops of the trees
that surrounded Dave's back yard. L stood beside Dave, his arm around her waist, her
hand playing at the back of his neck. Ping joined me, and offered me a glass of
champagne. Not my favorite drink, but Ping never takes "no" for an answer.

"Have you been behaving yourself?"

I told her I had. She looked over at L for a few seconds, then set her eyes on me
again.

"Has she?"

I told her definitely not as she felt the front of my pants.

"I'd have had you caged by now. Maybe L and I should have a long talk."

"It might be a short one," I said. "I hate those fucking things. Tried it once - it's
not for me. I like the pain from angst, not from a plastic ball-crusher."

She just smiled.

"Well, I hope you both get what you came for tonight. At least she is - they make
such a sexy couple, don't they?"

I told her I agreed, and that it was much of what I came for - and the other men L
might want before we leave.

She looked at me, smiled again, turned to walk away, and then looked back at me.

"You haven't seen the last of me tonight."

Then she was gone, back into the house, quietly seducing every man she met, whether
he knew it or not. There was still something magical about her - I could see her mind
work as she stared at me - pensive, mysterious, frighteningly intelligent, all
wrapped in a package that had me struggling to breathe when she stared at me or
touched me.

After so many visits there, I obsessed all the time about whether each event was
planned or chance. Did Ping know how she amped the frustration in me, her
sophisticated seduction offset by the sight of L and Dave as a couple? Did anyone (or
everyone) know how much I wanted sex, sex with L, in the midst of it all - and how I
was forbidden to have her? Of course, as experienced swingers, many of the couples we
had come to know thought nothing of it. They understood she was Dave's while we were
there, and that I was the cuckold. Except for Ping and her husband, we were an exotic
curiosity, one they loved playing with and watching. But how much of Ping's
seduction, how many of her very words to me, were planned or rehearsed? Or if not,
had Dave at least encouraged her to play with me, using her practiced skills as a
cuckoldress? Almost every minute there had become a maze of truths and misdirections,
much of it done to flaunt the amount sex L was free to enjoy, but I couldn't have.

L was less flirtatious than usual through the night, and seemed to be always close to
Dave. It was as though he had become possessive, a trait I had never seen in him. He
introduced L to a few single men who I thought were definitely L's type, but he kept
her close, with a firm hand on her arm or his arm clutched tightly around her waist.
He seemed more like her "owner" than her "handler" as he had been at other parties.

Later in the evening I noticed Dave and L head upstairs together. I was tempted to
follow and watch, but Ping arrived at my side, determined to play again.

"You like it, don't you? Knowing when you see her again, she'll have his cum inside
her?"

"Well, I'm not that sure of it. I guess they may be fucking, but it's still not that
late. They usually wait till later. Dave likes to do it in front of me, or at least
tell me what he'll do to her before he takes her upstairs. Maybe it's something
else..."

"OK...what do you imagine this "something else" might be, Don?"

I didn't have an answer for her. Hell, I knew they were probably fucking, but I felt
like I should push back at Ping a bit - as much as I liked her, I really, really
didn't want to "become" her husband - impotence and total submission weren't at all
attractive in real life. Sex, sex with L, would always override fantasy, no matter
how extreme the fantasy played out at the time. I loved playing with Ping, but making
it real was a bridge too fucking far. Nope - you mouthwatering, bitch on heels, I'm
not your husband.

Ping kept trying, trying to push me over the edge using a few cliches to increase the
heat of the conversation, but I wasn't buying it. Well, not entirely. But it was
still fun having her by my side there on the sofa, her hand playing with mine, her
long, slim thigh uncovered through the slit in the dress, so warm and snug against
mine.

Soon L and Dave returned, hand-in-hand down the stairs. L had started the night in a
short, tight, black skirt and clingy, silvery crop top that displayed the shape and
outline of her breasts under it. Her breasts swayed beneath it as if she was naked -
I couldn't take my eyes off it all night. It would be so easy to slip my hands up
under the loose, lower edge of it, cup her breasts, take her nipples between my
fingers...

Now she wore one of Dave's oversized, white dress shirts, and nothing else. She had
left it unbuttoned to her navel and her hair was a tangled mess. The shirttail was
long enough to cover her crotch, but as she came down the stairs it raised just
enough to show how swollen and wet she was under it. A few people stared and smiled,
and some didn't notice or care. Ping smiled at me, put her hand up to my cheek, and
told me, "Maybe it was the kind of "something else" you haven't seen him do to her
yet. Maybe you should go ask her..."

Was it Ping's teasing, or just L's freshly fucked look that rattled me? As I approached
L, Dave must have sensed that I wanted to talk and went to the bar. The evidence was
even more staggering up close - I could see where she had tried to fix her makeup too
quickly and failed, and the only trace of lipstick was a tiny smear at the corner of
her mouth. I wondered if she had had too many glasses of wine, but I hadn't seen her
drink more than one or two the entire night. I stood close enough to look down into
the front of the open shirt, and could see her lower belly was slick with semen. I had
no idea what to say to her.

"Um, it's a little over the top to show up like that in public, isn't it?" I asked
finally. Not an accusation really, and I tried to give her a little smile.

"Does it bother you?" she asked.

"No - well, maybe a little. I mean, there are still people here who may not
understand."

"Don, this isn't exactly 'in public'. You do remember where we are, don't you?"

I remembered all right. Every second she was naked around me, every minute she was
taking Dave's cock upstairs, every time a party guest had put his hand inside her top
or led her off into the dark outside to fondle or fuck her while he knew her husband
was waiting inside. But seeing her there at the party with his cum on her belly was
too much.

"Didn't you use a condom?"

"What do you mean? Why -"

"You're covered with his semen," I said, probably just a bit too forcefully.

She glanced down inside the shirt, then looked back up at me as though she hadn't
known it was there. A second later she was running strands of her hair through her
fingers, worried that I might have seen it there first.

"Your hair is fine," I assured her. "So, there was no condom, right?"

"Look Don, you know he owns me here. If he tells me to do something, I do it. When I
take my rings off here, it means something. I'm not your wife then - he's told you
that. I thought you understood all this. I know you worry about things, and I know
you'd like to have everything go just like your fantasies, but you don't make those
decisions here - he does. Sometimes things go just like we all plan, but other times
Dave and I do things we don't plan, things that come from our fantasies. He wanted to
come in me, and I wanted it too, so we did. It was sexy and dirty and exciting,
partly because we knew it would get to you. I guess it was a message from both of us
that you have no say here about what he does with my body. That always gets you hot -
didn't it this time?"

Before I could answer, Dave showed up beside us and had overheard at least a little
of our conversation.

"Do you have a problem with this, Don? If so, tell me what it is. Because I can't
imagine why you'd be so upset."

"I'm not upset," I said, probably with a bit too much rising disbelief. "Well, maybe
a little. L and I had an agreement..."

"Yes, I know about your agreement. But that was between you and your wife. She's mine
here, not yours. We have different agreements, ones we don't always tell you about.
You've told me that the uncertainty, the angst, pushing the envelope, is what makes
the little games between us fresh and exciting. Do you still feel that way? Do you
think we've hit the limit of where we can go from here?"

He used the one threat he knew I couldn't take - the threat of stopping the games
altogether. He does this all the time - twists me, backs me into a corner with what
seems like good logic and reason - because he knows me too well. He knows I'd never
give all this up, even under circumstances I can't yet imagine. He knows L needs it,
and would blame me for taking it from her. And it always makes me feel like I'm
supposed to, like he and L want me to feel - powerless, helpless, and both savaged
and excited by everything I have to give up. As much of her as I've given him in
the past, I've always imagined there is a tiny, hidden piece of her that is still
mine when we're there. Each time he finds that hidden piece, reaches into my gut
and takes it, I'm convinced she's completely his - until much later when L assures
me she isn't. It's the repeated loss of that last precious thread that challenges me,
worries me, and yet for some reason gets me hard - eventually.

I had to tell him we hadn't hit a limit, that I was just surprised and concerned for
L.

"But Don, her birth control is up to date, isn't it? And I'm much less promiscuous
than you imagine, and I'm tested often, especially before you and L visit. She means
too much to me to risk that. I know you have concerns and opinions, but honestly, to
be very blunt, those concerns and opinions about L are as useless here as your dick
is to her. So, we're OK?"

I told him I was fine, and that I understood and accepted everything he and L did in
his home. L looked back and forth between Dave and me as though she couldn't believe
he had talked me down with just a few words. I wondered if she understood it was more
for her than my own ease of mind. I knew how much she needed and loved this. Hell,
would she ever be quite the same woman again if I fucked things up? We had looked for
other Doms, and had never found anyone like Dave. He had become L's favorite lover,
and an odd kind of friend to me and to us as a couple. It seemed impossible that
neither L nor I would ever be able to disentangle our sex life from him.

"That's great, Don. Now, there's someone I want you to meet."

[Don Jetman]

~*~


I hadn't noticed the middle-aged man who was sitting quietly out in the lanai that
faced the pool. Dave introduced us to Stephen, who said he had been watching us the
entire night. He complimented L on her beauty, and her "rather unconventional
attire". L gathered the front of the shirt together as she shook his hand. It was the
first sign of modesty I had seen her show that night. The four of us sat and talked
for a while, and before long I noticed Dave's guests were leaving. Where was the
orgy? There was always an orgy of some type, and L was usually part of it, at least
privately with one of the men.

By the time Dave led us back inside, everyone had gone. We listened to some music
until Dave turned the talk to L's relationship with him, and my acceptance of it.
Stephen seemed interested, but completely at ease when the subject of sex surfaced. I
began to suspect he was a plant by Dave, although he was a plant with more patience
than I'd ever seen if he was there to fuck L.

"I'm giving you to Stephen, L," Dave told her suddenly. She seemed especially
compliant, I thought, and if anything, even more bold and self-confident than she had
been around Dave's guests.

"I'll do whatever you want," she answered, a little surprised, but determined to
maintain a mask of confidence.

Stephen stood and approached her.

"Stand up, L. Let me see you. And please, take off that shirt."

L did as he asked, unfastened the remaining button near the bottom of the shirt, and
shrugged it off her shoulders. Crusty traces of Dave's semen remained on her belly
and labia. I couldn't help staring at it - the one taboo she had abandoned at Dave's
insistence. I thought I had reconciled it, but in front of Stephen it was a slap in
the face. The betrayal of our agreement came rushing back in full force, filling my
head with images of his semen pouring out of her after they fucked. Did Stephen see L
as just a slut, not caring that she wore Dave's semen in front of his party guests?
And how many of those guests had noticed? I didn't doubt Dave had told Stephen she
was a wife who fucked other men with her husband's knowledge. But that wasn't all L
was, even though at times she may have played the part there. Bringing Stephen into
the game so suddenly, someone who seemed so familiar with us and yet was a complete
stranger, had me grasping at multiple explanations I couldn't hope to pursue with any
certainty. So, at least for a short time, having L presented as a true slut distracted
me from my usual rational exercise of separating fantasy from reality. Who the fuck
was this guy?

Stephen moved closer, then put his hand between her legs and slid two fingers inside
her. She winced, but seemed determined to let him play with her if Dave ordered it.

"Clench my fingers, L, as tightly as you can."

I saw her belly contract and flatten, holding it as best as she could as she kept her
eyes on Dave.

"She's tight," he said to Dave. "I thought you said you've been fucking her for a
while now."

"She's always been that way," Dave told him.

"And she's been married to you for so long - I'm surprised," he said to me. "And you
give her to other men as well?"

"Yes," I told him.

"Many men?"

"Yes."

He circled behind L and put a finger up her ass. She winced again, but stood her
ground.

"Do those other men take you here?" he asked her.

"Yesss," she hissed.

"And you like it?"

"Yesss."

"Well, we'll see about that."

He circled her again and again, stopping now and then to play with her nipples or
trail his fingers along her belly and into her pussy. I saw her nipples harden and
her breathing deepen.

"She's very easy, isn't she," said to Dave. "Does she let you come in her,
everywhere? Does she swallow?"

"She does anything I tell her to do, even in front of her husband. She's been with me
a long time, Stephen. I'm sure you'll be happy with her."

Stephen stopped and turned to me.

"And what about you? I'm curious. Are you worried about what I might do to her?"

"Just don't hurt her. I don't have any say about how you have sex with her. She comes
here to be with Dave - to be owned by him. Dave decides who fucks her. You'll have to
ask him."

"All that's been taken care of," he assured me. "But I do need to hear it from her.
Beg me to use you, L. Tell me you belong to me."

I didn't know if her hesitation was real or she was acting. She looked so used
already. Naked and covered with semen, her hair now a shapeless, moist, tangled sheet
of chestnut brown, her pussy still wet and red from Stephen's invasion. She kept her
eyes on Dave, glanced at me once, but refused to look at Stephen. I was taken by how
fiercely determined she was, standing so straight with her breasts thrust forward,
never cowering or allowing Stephen's talk about her body or his penetration of it to
embarrass or break her.

Finally, she looked straight at Stephen when she answered him.

"I belong to David. But if he gives me to you, you can have me."

"I told you I'm giving you to Stephen," Dave interrupted. "You belong to him now.
Tell him."

"I belong to you now. I'm yours," she recited, as if Dave had written the words for
her.

I studied the look on her face as she told him. I knew all her expressions so well. I
saw surprise, disappointment, and yet still a tiny, well, it's hard to explain, maybe
well-hidden "twinkle" there? She had become a lot of things, and a good actress was
one of them. At least that's what I told myself.

"Leave her naked - I'll bring the car into the garage," he said to Dave.

"Wait!" I asked Stephen on his way out. "When will you have her back? We leave
Monday."

"You don't have a say in this. I won't keep her long, so sit tight and hope she'll
want to come back you at all."

Dave took her arm and led her to the garage. She never said another word or looked
back at me. I heard the car start, and Stephen took her away into the night.

[Don Jetman]

~*~


Dave sat with me for a while after they left. He was quiet, and after a while I
guessed he was in "support mode" again, so I asked the obvious - how much of this was
arranged, and did L know about Steven beforehand?

He told me I should expect by now that some of everything that happened there was
arranged, and some things were coincidence or just good luck. And he assured me that
he never forced L to do anything she objected to. In fact, much of what took place
was at least partly L's idea, or her extension of one of his own, or even mine.

"I'm surprised you haven't noticed a few details tonight. Can you think of an idea L
may have suggested in her most submissive moods? Maybe something classic, with a
kinky part for all of us?"

It all came together at once then - Dave giving her to another man about his age, a
man called Stephen. The way Steven inspected and groped L when they first met had
seemed familiar at the time. In fact, he had been Sir Steven when L first knew of him
some time ago - as a Dom - in a book.

Not long ago I was watching a documentary I had recorded years ago about the life of
Dominique Aury, the French journalist and author of Story of O. L watched the latter
half with me, and surprised me when she told me she had never read the book and
didn't know much about it. We spent nights after that taking turns reading my copy
aloud in bed before going to sleep. L was hooked after the first chapter, and I loved
that she wanted sex every night after we read another chapter.

"So, we're playing out the Story of O here?" I asked Dave.

"Maybe not 'we', Don, but it's certainly a curious fantasy for L."

"I can see your part and hers," I said, "but I don't see a part for me. There wasn't
a husband in the story - just a vague description of her lover."

"There isn't a part for you, Don. That would be an interesting sequel though,
wouldn't it? O's husband as the quintessential cuckold? Maybe we're writing that now
- or maybe you're just the reader, or the 'watcher' in this case."

Now I had a million more questions.

"So, does L know this 'Sir Stephen'? Have they met before?"

"No Don, they haven't."

"So, she just left in a stranger's car, naked?"

"Well, he's not a stranger to me, Don. And he's no more a stranger to L than any of
the other men she meets and fucks at my parties."

I thought more about the book, and of O's character L was playing.

"There were the beatings, the whippings in the book - L wouldn't want that. Do you
trust this guy? I mean, not to go too far, to do things L wouldn't want? We have this
agreement that L never gets physically hurt, right? You promised that."

"I can't tell you what L will want from Stephen. Yes, they might do things you
consider extreme, but I can promise you he won't do anything she objects to. In fact,
she's in very, very good hands."

Dave wouldn't say much more, other than L would be back before our Monday flight. I
went to bed with that one minor consolation. But I tossed and turned thinking about L
and her new 'owner', what they might be doing, whether L would want his cum in her
too, and what other perversions he might have in mind that neither L nor I had yet
imagined. I guessed she might like that, something new and perverse that scratched
her submissive itch, but then again, it worried me she might like it a little too
much. Might it lead her to things even more extreme, things that weren't as easy for
me to accept?

I woke twice during the night, both times from nightmares of 'Sir Stephen' filling
her with unending fountains of cum that gushed from her pussy as she lay in a sticky
lake of semen that covered his bed. The next morning I woke suddenly after a short,
horrifying dream of L returning to me with an extended belly, so proud that he had
impregnated her. I needed her back, badly.

[Don Jetman]

~Friday~

I spent Friday with Dave. I had no idea when L would be back, and that worried me a
little. Would she decide to stay on by herself with Stephen? Would what he gave her
be that satisfying to her? She had spent time here with Dave before, but never with
anyone else. Would this be the start of a second special Dom relationship?

We ate breakfast at a small local cafe where everyone seemed to know Dave. "I like to
start work days here instead of eating at home," he told me. I was surprised when he
told me I could come with him.

Once there, he showed me around the small suite of offices. When we arrived at his, I
was shocked to find Gail, the outrageously gorgeous blonde I had met at several of
his parties, arranging papers on his desk. She seemed just as shocked to see me, and
also a bit uncomfortable. Dave assured her I was just tagging along with him that day
while L was 'busy', and Gail seemed to relax a bit. I wondered if she thought this
was some kind of sex game Dave had sprung on her. She looked relieved to see that it
wasn't.

Gail and I waited in a nearby lounge while Dave finished his business. We had coffee,
and she asked about L and me, whether we were staying with Dave again, and for how
long. I was never sure about her relationship with Dave, and he had never offered to
say, so I didn't bring up past party events. She was the one who asked.

"So, what's keeping L 'busy' today?"

She wore a knowing smile when she asked, so I assumed she knew it wasn't that
innocent.

"She's spending some time with someone we met last night," I said, "at Dave's party."

"Yes, he said you might be there, but I had other plans this time," she explained. "I
suppose the two of you had fun?"

"We always do," I told her. It was a bit odd talking about this with her, not knowing
how much she knew, and why she knew it. I began to guess Dave was closer to her than
I had imagined.

"Did you watch her with anyone this time?"

"Um, no, she and Dave stayed pretty close all night, so no other men, except later,
when we met Stephen."

She smiled again, looking down into her coffee.

"You mean 'Sir' Stephen?"

Her emphasis on 'Sir' told me she knew him, and most likely the game, if that's what
it was.

"Oh - I guess you know him."

"Yes, I know him. You wife is in for quite a time. How long will she be with him?"

I admitted I didn't know, but told her our flight back was in three days. I also asked
if she knew much about him.

"I know what he likes," she said. "And I know he likes them just like your wife. He
just might keep her," she said with a teasing smile.

When I looked worried, she reached over and put her hand on mine. It brought back
memories of when she did that in the past. Not exactly good memories.

"I'm kidding. Really. I think it's sweet that you get so concerned. I hope you
remember what I told you the last time we met."

"That it's only a game?" I asked.

"Well, mostly a game. It's really up to your wife. But yes, a game. Stephen is a
gentleman. He knows what she wants, and what she doesn't. I wouldn't worry. She'll
love her time with him. Really."

By the time Dave was finished I thought I knew more about Gail, but with that came a
million more questions. So finally, I just asked as he drove.

He told me Gail was a lot like L in the past. She worked there as an assistant, and
was a hopeful author, so Dave mentored her and read her work. She and her husband
were invited to all Dave's parties, and were seduced by the swinger lifestyle. But
Gail, like L, couldn't bring herself to allow her husband to fuck other women after
a while, so they played hotwifing instead. At first her husband was all in, but
eventually his jealousy took over and became a problem. By then Gail was living the
hotwife life and couldn't give it up. She became more assertive and dominant in their
marriage, and her husband couldn't accept it. He left her, and it turned her life
upside down for a long time.

So, Gail could play the field, but that wasn't hotwifing. She needed the game. She
needed a husband to want her while she fucked other men. She needed a husband to love
her the way she was. I told Dave that I thought a woman like Gail should be able to
get any man she wanted, so I was surprised she was still single. He reminded me how
difficult it might be to find men who might want to share someone like Gail - that
men who want trophy wives want them a possessions, and men who want a family and kids
don't want a wife who might have a tarnished reputation, and someone else's kids.
Looking from the inside out, I had completely forgotten how unpopular the lifestyle
really is to the vanilla public. Apparently Gail was reminded of that every day.

"She's living between both worlds now, Don. She needs to play, but playing is painful
to her without her husband. She's tried it alone, and it doesn't work for her. You
know from your time with her that she's drawn into it, needs to be part of it, but
pulls back at the last minute as old memories come flooding back. I've always thought
she's too caring and compassionate for a woman with her body and looks. These days
though, you'd never know it. You've seen how sullen and aloof she can be at parties.
A lot of men think she's just a bitch, when she's the complete opposite. She's just
in pain, and stuck there for far too long now."

"So, you two never.."

He was quiet for a minute, then told me they had tested a physical relationship after
Gail's husband left, but it never seemed to work for either of them. He was her
mentor, and she could never get around their long-time platonic friendship.

"Sometimes she needs me, and I do what I can to help. Sometimes that's sex, but more
often it's a trusted friend's ear."

The rest of the day was spent visiting a few old landmarks of the city we enjoyed
when we lived there. It was considerate of Dave to try to make me feel at home
again, and at ease, but L was never far from my thoughts. I ruminated over what
Stephen was doing with L, doing to L, and to what extent she had given herself to
him. Stephen seemed sterner than Dave, even a bit sadistic, and it brought back
memories of Dave's ill-behaved nephew, Rick. Stephen may have seemed more refined
than Rick, but I was sure his tastes still ran darker than Dave's. What would happen
when his wishes ran headlong into L's more extreme desires to be controlled? And then
there was Gail's claim that he likes his women just like L - and her teasing remark
that "he just might keep her". Would L decide to stay with Stephen after I left? For
how long? After all, she had done this before with Dave, during which time she had
let six other men fuck her in one night.

The waiting, the not knowing, made for a shitty day, even with Dave's best efforts to
keep me occupied. I worried, I fantasized, I imagined the worst, that he really would
keep her and she'd want to stay. That night I masturbated in bed thinking of them
together - inserting all the scenes I recalled from the Story of O. Him making her
masturbate in front of him, maybe even in front of his friends. Would he whip her,
let other men sodomize her while chained in his dungeon? Would he use her body as a
receptacle for young boys to enter and fill, young hard virgin cocks starving for a
tight cunt for the very first time? And above all, would she like it, and would she
want more?

[Don Jetman]

~Saturday~

Dave was out when I woke Saturday morning. I raided his fridge for yogurt and fruit,
showered and shaved, and went on my usual walkabout through his house. His office was
now my first target. On a past visit I found photos of L he had purposely left in his
desk drawer - naked, seductive poses. She had so willingly exposed every part of her
body, spread herself open for his camera, and possibly for the later amusement of his
friends. I had known about the pictures, but wasn't allowed to see them at the time
they were taken during one of L's visits alone with him. He knew not seeing them was
killing me, so the few he left me were the perfect tease.

I went to the same desk drawer, opened it, and wasn't disappointed. There were five
or six new photos of L, this time in outrageously tall high heels and black
stockings. One showed her facing the camera with arms crossed in front of her, hips
thrust forward with her pussy swollen and spread open to show how wet she was as a
hint of semen dripped from her. Another showed her arms bound behind her on his bed,
her ass thrust in the air completely exposing her sex. She still wore the heels and
stockings, but the photo was taken before he had fucked her. Her face was resting on
the bed, turned to one side, her eyes wide with what looked like genuine fear. The
third was nearly the same position, but her pussy was swollen and oozed a drop of
semen. This time her face was angelic, eyes closed, her lips forming a satisfied
smile. There were a few more with her arms tied to the headboard, legs spread, on her
stomach and on her back, all with gleaming pearls of semen over her labia and inner
thighs.

I had to wonder if he regretted leaving these for me after my objection to L taking
his cum inside her at the party. But he wanted me to see this. He wanted me to know
they had made the decision long before I arrived, without my permission. He wanted to
drive home how little say I had in what they did there, and how L now made the
decision on her own. He was telling me, "She wants my cum in her - as much as I can
give her. She doesn't need your permission now. You have to accept that I'm leaving
my seed in her over and over and over, and you can't do a thing about it."

I got the message. As I stared at them, I realized it was a turning point - another
one. L would decide when to abandon the condoms, and when to make it known it was
entirely her decision. I didn't like it much - the thought that it may mean her other
lovers may empty themselves into her as well, and that unprotected sex was still a
source of anxiety for me, as it should be for her. I couldn't take my eyes off the
photos. Was this who she was now? The cum slut in the pictures I held in my hands?
Eventually the mix of anxiety and excitement was too much for me, and I placed the
photos back in his desk. I kept hearing Gail's voice in my head - "It's just a game,
it's just a game." This time it wasn't as soothing, and my belief in the words formed
by her perfect mouth was shaken to pieces.

I needed to escape, so I went for a walk through the neighborhood. The houses were
all the same style, mostly stucco with Spanish tile roofs. It was quiet and cooler
than the past few days, and I passed well-groomed yards with sprinklers misting green
lawns and beds of brightly colored tropical flowers. A few of the neighbors waved as
I walked by, and I wondered what they'd think if they knew why I was here. Did they
know anything of Dave's kinky private life and what went on at his frequent parties?
Were any of the neighbors part of it all, well-to-do couples and families by day and
swingers in the small compound of David's house and back yard by night? It was hard
to imagine Dave could have kept it a secret for long.

When I got back there was a white Mercedes convertible in the driveway. I didn't
recognize it as one of Dave's cars, and had visions of Gail's long legs swinging out
of the driver's seat and strolling into the house. I was wrong, but not by much.

Ping was sitting on the sofa reading a magazine, and looked and smiled when she saw
me.

"There you are - someone told me you might be lonely, so I came to keep you company."

"And I guess I know who that 'someone' might be," I said.

To my surprise she stood and gave me a hug, one that turned into more of a body
embrace. She was stunning in a pair of very short white shorts and bright red blouse.
I could feel her breasts through the blouse and her long, bare legs as she moved them
against mine. It was the first time I had seen her in daylight, and she was just as
exotic then in simple clothes as she had been in the slinky siren dress at night. I
couldn't imagine a better gift from Dave to keep me sane for the day, but he knew L's
rules - if I fucked Ping and L found out, our visit may not have a happy ending.

After her long hug, Ping took my hand and led me upstairs without another word. She
went straight for Dave's bedroom, closed the drapes along the row of windows, and
began to unbutton my shirt.

"You know L's rules," I told her. "I know you don't think it's fair, but I've agreed
to it."

She just kept undressing me - undoing my shorts and sliding them off with my
underwear.

"I think it's completely fair," she said. "We're just going to play a little."

She reached down and cupped my balls, then slowly traced a line along my growing
erection with her finger. Stepping back, she stripped in front of me, taking her time
as she watched my dick stand at attention and throb a bit. Her smile was more
mysterious and wicked than friendly, I thought. My God she was beautiful. So tall and
slim, with perfect skin everywhere.

She led me to the bed and we lie there side by side, me on my back, and she propped
up on an elbow looking at me, inches away.

"Well, for someone who says he isn't allowed to fuck, you certainly look like you
want to fuck."

She reached over and held my dick, a single finger exploring the head, softly
circling it as she watched.

"Hmmm - now I know why L is so hungry for cock. I mean, yours is very nice, but very
ordinary. I'm sure she enjoys it now and then, but she must enjoy something much more
filling when she gets the chance. I'm sure she's made that clear, hasn't she?"

I told her she's made that very clear - and it's what I want for L as well.

"Still, you must be envious - I mean, not being blessed like the other men who really
satisfy her. I guess watching that is enough for you most of the time, or even
thinking about it when she lets you inside her. Do you do that? Think about the men
with huge cocks who fuck her? I mean, while you're fucking?"

I admitted I did, many times while she told me about them, what they did to her, and
how amazing it felt.

"There's nothing wrong with that," she assured me. "I mean, husbands with limited
adequacy knowing where they stand, submitting to their wives needs. And you must know
that she'd never really tell you how much less you satisfy her than her other lovers.
Those dirty little secrets she can't confess to you because they might castrate you.
And then she wouldn't have your dick as consolation during those times when she can't
find a better one, would she?"

I could tell Ping had a lot of experience cuckolding her older husband, and it was a
rare experience for me having a cuckoldress like her play with me. It was effective,
to a point. Having her naked next to me was a feast for the eyes, and her words came
so naturally I was taken in by them immediately. I'm OK with a little humiliation,
but there is a line that can't be crossed if I'm still all in. Ping was bordering on
that line. Convincing me I was inadequate with L in bed was a hard sell. Even L toys
with the idea, but she knows I'm shielded by the evidence, that she comes long and
hard when we fuck. Still, I wasn't about to stop Ping now that she was naked and had
my dick in her hand.

So, I played along as she edged me, over and over. Try as I might to trick her, she
was an expert at knowing when I was about to come, and always left me hanging on the
edge of what I was sure would be a massive orgasm. She took a genuine delight in
leading me on though, slowly and methodically trying to convince me that L thought my
dick and my ability to use it was growing more and more disappointing as she found
and fucked other "better" men. My suspension of disbelief was tested over and over,
at first letting her in, then grounding me with just a brief sentence or idea that
went too far. She was truly a genius at this - her only fault was that she didn't
know me well enough to stay within the lines. But I was sure she'd master that in
time. The possibility of getting to know her better was exciting - having a beautiful
Domme to role play with would be a door to a new adventure for me. But I was almost
completely certain L wouldn't allow it, as much as I imagined her becoming Ping's apt
pupil.

Ping never brought up Sir Stephen, so I never knew how much she had been told, but
her constant attempts to fray my confidence began to rouse concern about what he
might be doing with, or to, L. Gail's comments the day before came back to haunt me,
and thoughts of L genuinely belonging to Stephen, wanting to stay on with him,
intruded here and there between Ping's dialogue. Would he be L's ultimate Dom? Would
he take her further than she had been willing to go with Dave? Would she miss that,
even crave it after she left him? Would Sir Stephen become Dave's successor, or even
his replacement? And if so, would that leave less room for me in the game?

Eventually Ping ordered me to finish her, not with my dick, but with my mouth. I told
her it was close enough to real sex that L would be furious if she found out. Ping
thought about it for a moment, then told me to just use my hand. I did, stroking her
body and fingering her clit until she came. Watching her long, slender body convulse
and hearing her low-pitched moans was worth any price I paid. Afterwards, she praised
me for my "above average skills", and told me she was sure I could keep L happy "long
after she doesn't need your dick anymore". Whatever. For me, watching her give up an
orgasm made my day.

We spent some time together out of the bedroom after that, raiding Dave's fridge and
his bar. Ping was dressed, but ordered me to stay naked so she could "keep an eye on
how my little dick" responded to her. She'd come close and flick it now and then, and
sometimes cup my balls to get me hard again. It was strange that this, being naked
while she was fully dressed, being at her mercy to fondle me and watch the effect
with her stunning but wicked grin, was more humiliating than any of her prior banter.
Thinking about the men she must toy with and becoming one of them brought
submissiveness to a new level for me. I was her toy now. One to play with, but one
that never, ever cums. Delicious? Yes, but not something I'd want a steady diet of.
At least I don't think so...

"We'll have to do this again some time," she promised me. "I think you're very
trainable."

I assured her that L would have a problem with our repeated little games, but that I
had had a good time.

"Oh, let me take care of that. I'm sure L could use some lessons on how to handle
you. I love helping wives reach their full potential."

I told her again to take that approach at her own risk, and that I'd have to tell L
what happened even if it put me in the dog house for a while. I really doubted L
would be that upset (if she heard it from me first) - Ping and I didn't really have
sex. But I knew keeping it from her would be more dangerous - these kinds of secrets
never end well.

Ping left me there, naked and hard. I went to Dave's office, masturbated to L's
pictures, and dressed, all before Dave returned. I thanked him for the
"entertainment", and he smiled until I thought his face would crack. He didn't ask if
I had fucked Ping. He didn't ask me anything. He knew it was just another puzzle
piece that would draw L and me further into his game.

[Don Jetman]

~*~


Sir Stephen returned L that evening, unannounced. He led her into the house from the
garage where he had parked his car, and immediately, as it was when he took her, I
saw why. L wore black heels so high they exaggerated the way she walked. She could
barely keep her balance, and tried her best to place one foot in front of the other,
swaying her hips like a hooker. It looked practiced, or at least as though he had
ordered her to walk that way. Bands of black leather circled her wrists, ankles and
neck, with a small ring attached to each one. Stephen led her by a leash attached to
her collar. I imagined her tied, her wrists stretched overhead, her legs spread
helplessly as he fucked her.

She was naked, except for two thin, black cords that passed between her labia and up
over each hip and around her back. The effect was to open her, to spread her pussy
lips so the tiny bud of clitoris was exposed - pink, engorged, and juicy. She
obviously excited, but kept her gaze lowered at the floor when he stopped before us
and presented her.

There was something so powerful about the scene - that this stranger had found a way
to expose her sex and show me how completely she was willing to be used by him. She
was a picture of the ultimate slave - bound, exposed and submissive to her master. She
wouldn't look up at me, and stood with heels together, perilously perched on the
outrageously spiked heels. She was trying to keep her balance, almost imperceptively
shifting side to side. I thought she was shivering at first, that maybe she was
embarrassed or afraid.

"You were right," he told Dave. "She is the one of the most compliant women I've ever
had. Well, perhaps 'compliant' isn't the right word. Maybe 'eager' is a better one."

He turned to study me for a few seconds, and caught me staring at L's body.

"She tells me you're useless at this - the thing she most wants from me. Also that
you give her up to other men willingly so she can have what she needs. I can't say I
admire that, but I do appreciate it. Have you thought about what I might be doing
with her while we were gone? And did that get you hard? Did you jerk off thinking
about it?"

I told him that yes, it did, and I had. There was something about him, the way he
said it, the confidence - in fact certainty that I had. It made me shrink a bit, and
although the reality of the situation was suspect, it twisted me a little. I felt the
familiar tendrils of angst and worry slither from my chest to my groin. I sensed my
dick swell - not harden exactly, but gain just enough size and heft to respond. It
was the level, not just the familiarity of the experience, that threatened to
overwhelm me.

"Did you hear that, L? That your husband masturbates while he imagines how I use you?"

She didn't look up or answer.

"Is all the rest true, L? Does your husband fail to give you what you get from me, what
you really need?"

She replied softly, still looking at the floor.

"Yes."

"Is it the way I fuck you, L?"

"Yes."

"Is it the way I use every part of your body, every hole?"

"Yes."

"So, if I ordered it, would you stay with me? Would you send your husband back home
and stay with me? Belong to me? You loved my friends' cocks, didn't you, L. Would you
fuck me and my friends as often as we wish? Do anything we want with you?"

She looked up at him, glanced at me, then turned back to Stephen.

"I-If, that's what you want..."

In the past I could always tell when L was acting. Lately, it was more uncertain. She
understood her part was essential, to both me and Dave. She wanted us to believe. She
had admitted that to me again and again after we fucked. But she had also admitted
that she began to savor it - the juicy, slutty, bad girl who was less concerned about
her husband than she was about a great fuck, and about satisfying her own fantasies
and needs. I had applauded that. I had encouraged her to be whatever she wanted to be
in those moments. I knew it came with surrendering a part of my ego during those
times, but the after-effcts were so fucking rewarding - the sex we had reliving it
was amazing. Usually recalling all this was easy - but this time, well, I couldn't
read her. It was all too real.

"There you have it," Stephen said to me. "I can keep her if I want. I can do anything
to her, and your wife will want more. I suppose all that's necessary is for you to
admit it, for you to give her to me."

He waited for an answer.

"Give her to you, for how long?" I asked.

"As long as I say."

"Can we agree on a time?" I asked. Hell, I could play the helpless husband if I had
to. Maybe L had imagined the story that way, with O's husband forced to surrender her.

"That might be up to L," he said. "Besides, I need more time to train her to prance
on these heels she's struggling with. I can train her to walk like a hooker every
minute of the day if I have the time. My friends would love that. It might take
months..."

I told him it was out of the question - that I wouldn't give her up to him without
limits. She'd be going home with me. If he wanted her again the next time we visited,
the decision would be hers.

"Well, finally some backbone from the husband," he said to Dave. "I'm glad - that
makes things more interesting. It's no fun using a wife's body if her husband isn't
at least a little jealous. Stealing something isn't at all worthwhile if it isn't
valuable. And there's nothing like a husband's wounded ego to make things interesting
while I'm fucking his wife. You do understand that, don't you, Don?"

I understood alright. Because it was that very knife to the ego that made his using
her exciting. It was always the danger, the angst, the uncertainty, that got me hard.
If there was nothing to lose, it wouldn't matter.

Stephen walked to Dave and handed him L's leash.

"Her little cunt is quite something. I'm sure you'll take care of her until I see her
again."

He moved close to me, almost touching his chest to mine.

"I hope you appreciate her. I know so many men who would give anything for some time
in her little cunt. So many men who would go insane if they had to share her. And
yet, you allow it."

He grabbed my crotch, his fingers clutching my erection through my pants. I stepped
back suddenly, but he moved against me again.

"...you get off on it, don't you? I wonder, do you really know how much she loves it?
How she sighs and trembles when she takes another man inside her? Her body doesn't
lie. She betrays you again and again when it happens. Do you really understand how
genuine it is? How much she wants that? Then again, maybe you do..."

He let go and backed away, still watching me, waiting for an answer.

The threat of losing her to him for days, weeks, or hell, maybe even months, didn't
settle all that well on top of the angst I expected and knew so well. Seeing her
there a few feet from me, naked except for the leather around her wrists and legs,
her skin so firm and white, her pose so submissive - it was too much to surrender,
even if he wanted her for just a short time. I understood his intent, his insidious
goal, to objectify her - to make her a willing sex doll that would submit to any
man's fantasies. And I understood L's disturbing need to become what he made her in
her submissive moments, but how could she reconcile becoming this plaything, this
man-toy, in spite of her fierce feminist dedication and independance? His
presentation of L as just that toy was flawless, but became even more disturbing
because in that moment I also saw her as my wife, as fragile and defenseless as I
had ever seen her. She balanced on the heels as best she could, one moment brazen
yet submissive, and the next shivering in the cool air-conditioned room. Or was her
fleeting shiver from fear and uncertainty? I couldn't tell.

"Maybe it's you who doesn't get it," I said. "Maybe you don't know how many men she's
played with and seduced. Maybe you don't know how I love to hear the details as she
rides my cock in our bed. Maybe you don't know how much she loves teasing me with the
very things you're telling me - how other men's' cocks fill her and how many times
they make her come. And I'm sure you don't know how hard I get and how much I love it
when she whispers all that in my ear when I least expect it."

I thought it would set him back a bit. Instead he just smiled, without moving an inch
away from me. He stood there quietly for a while, staring into my eyes as though he
was trying to read my mind, or maybe trying to rewire it.

"Maybe we need to see if you're being honest," he told me finally. "Maybe it's time
to test you."

He turned to L, put a finger through the ring on her collar, and led her to the
stairs. Dave followed, and waved to me to come along. L was even more unsteady on the
stairs, and almost fell twice. Strangely, I felt sorry for her. Maybe because she
might fall or sprain an ankle, but also because I knew she wanted to play her part as
convincingly as she could. In a perfect game, she'd climb the stairs gracefully in
the heels, her ass swaying, her shaved pussy wet and proudly displayed from behind in
the open space between her legs. Without much practice, it appeared Sir Stephen was
dragging her along by the collar as she struggled to keep up. Wobbling on the heels
enhanced the image of her Master leading his slave toward some perverse punishment.
His pace was deliberate and just fast enough to imply she was reluctant to arrive at
their destination. Yet, I could see she was wet and her nipples puckered and hard. It
was one of those moments so real that I honestly couldn't discern L's true emotional
state - whether it was superb acting on her part, or genuine submission to the point
of losing all control. I convinced myself it was likely the former quickly leading to
the latter. But was I right? And did I really want her to abandon all rational
caution? In those moments the angst rose to overwhelm reason. I was nervous, even
jittery as I climbed the stairs behind them clutching the hand rail. It certainly
looked like Stephen now owned her.

[Don Jetman]

~*~


Stephen led L to the bed, put her on her back, and tied the bands on her wrists
together. He stretched her arms overhead, and Dave found a long piece of cloth to tie
her wrists to the headboard. I stood just inside the door to Dave's bedroom, watching
as though I was unsure of my part there. Dave motioned me inside, and I moved to the
wall along one side of the bed.

Stephen stood at the opposite side of the bed, facing me.

"Spread your legs, L."

He was touching L, very lightly, running his fingertips along her body from her neck
to the insides of her thighs. He'd linger over her lower belly, tracing promises of
dipping into her pussy, but never doing so. She'd shudder when he went there, and
began to raise her hips when he returned there a second time. He moved a finger just
inside the top of her slit, tugging a bit to show us how wet she was. The little nub
of her clit seemed to burst from the opening, glistening and hard. She was staring at
Stephen, as though they were somehow communicating wordlessly.

The scene was all too convincing. I stared at a woman lying naked before someone who
had captured her mentally and physically, a woman in black bands of restraint, black
heels and collar, willingly spreading her legs to show us how taken she had become.
If I squinted a bit to hide her face, this wasn't my wife at all. This was a porn
clip, complete with two Bulls and someone else's wife, desperate to be taken, fucked,
even destroyed. But it was also so much more than that - not a fuzzy homemade clip of
a wife getting fucked, nor a slick film-like scene where flawless actors did their best
to be convincing. It wasn't that I was new to seeing L with other men, but this time
there was an air of genuine uncertainty. This time the difference between story, the
game, and reality was blurred to the point where I felt displaced, as though we had
been shifted to another time and place, a Twilight Zone effect that was convincing
enough to be dizzying.

As I juggled reason vs. disbelief, angst vs. the awareness of my erection, the L I
knew vs. the naked toy on the bed, L turned her face toward me.

"You know how much I want this, don't you?"

At the same time, she smiled and closed her eyes for a long second. When she opened
them, I could see she had sent me a message, one meant to tell me that in spite of
the hungry body I saw tied to the bed, she was still L, still with me.

It's amazing how little things from L ground me - how she can arouse me, tease me,
make me believe the most outrageous dangers and betrayals, then sweep all of it away
with a wink or smile. It works time after time. I fall for her ingenuity, her
commitment to perceived sexual excesses, and her keen sense of how hard and far to
push me. I teeter on the edge of worry and excitement, sometimes even bordering on
hysteria, and just before falling over the edge, she rescues me with a knowing
retreat. It's a familiar cycle, but she makes it work every time. How she's
developed the skill, evolving from a reluctant hotwife to a sexual Disneyland, is
far beyond me.

So, I watched. I watched Sir Stephen mount and fuck L as she begged to be owned and
fucked. I listened to him demand her surrender to him, and to her promise that sex
with her husband would never be the same, and in fact would cease to exist. I
listened to the dialogue between them that was at times cliche, and at other times
frighteningly sincere. I saw L's legs tighten around him, pulling him into her, and
heard her little gasps as he pistoned in and out of her. It was pure fucking, without
warmth or emotion. The sound she made when she came was long, broken and shrill,
almost like crying, I thought - like she was letting go of everything in those few
seconds.

Dave took her next, swiveling her over on her stomach, then easing his cock into her
ass. L had never spoken of him taking her there, and it surprised me she had
obviously agreed to it. She struggled with the unfamiliarity at first, wincing as
Dave retreated and began over and over. Then she simply went limp and looked into my
eyes until he came in her. The message she was sending me was her surrender - "Even
after I've had my orgasm, I'm letting him do this to me, I'm giving him my body to
use as he wants, and I'm showing you how owned I've become by these two men."

Dave and Stephen dressed, leaving L tied on the bed, ignoring her.

"She's everything you said she is," Stephen told Dave. "I'm looking forward to having
her again, to continue her training the next time she's here. You'll let me know when
she's visiting again?"

Dave told him it would be L's decision, but if she wanted him, he'd be sure to
arrange it. That lent some credence to the longstanding relationship between Dave and
Sir Stephen. I had assumed it was a onetime game - but it appeared to be more than
that. I wondered whether L would want more of him if she knew. I pictured her owned
by not just Dave, but by two men who obviously satisfied her equally in ways she
couldn't find elsewhere, not even together with me in our bed. The thought alone was
intoxicating, even if it was cloaked in darker potential and disbelief.

Stephen turned to me, again approaching closely, pressing his chest lightly against
me. He stared into my eyes for a few seconds, as though again looking for an honest
response from me by some kind of telepathy.

"You do, don't you?" he said, still staring. "You want men to have her, to take her.
You don't even mind giving them a little part of her when that happens, do you? When
she comes back to you, when she lets you fuck her, do you think about that? That
she's given part of her little cunt to them for good? That you'll never be quite the
same to her when you're inside her again?"

"That may be the part of the fantasy you believe," I told him. "And I buy into it
sometimes, but only as a fantasy. Reality is completely different. L always comes
back to me - complete with everything she left with. In fact she comes back with more
- with a little piece of the men she fucks, including a piece of you now. And we'll
share that together later, as she fucks me. So thanks for that."

It didn't seem to affect him. He still stared and didn't back away.

"We'll see about that," he answered finally. "But I'll have more time with her than
most, I'm sure. Like Dave, I have something she needs. And I happen to think you're
wrong. I think I can take a piece of her, just as Dave has. I know you think that's
not true, but has she really given you everything she's giving him? Do you honestly
think you can grasp what it takes to give her the things he gives her? If you could,
why would she come back to him so many times, and for so long? Dave does own a piece
of her, and if you asked her, I'm betting she'd admit it.

"Anyway, it was a pleasure meeting both of you, and having L as well. We'll do it
again, I'm sure. If for no other reason than to prove my point."

He left us, and Dave excused me as well. I looked back at L as I left the room. She
had turned over on her back again, her arms still stretched overhead, tied to the
bed. I wanted a final look from her, a final sign that this was a game and it had
ended. But her eyes were closed, and she wore a very faint smile that could have been
either satisfaction or amusement.

Back in the bed Dave had assigned to me when we stayed with him, I imagined Dave
using her the rest of the night. How many times would they fuck? And would it really
be just fucking? He and L had a loose emotional attachment, and I had seen their
fucking come close to making love at times. I began to imagine them kissing deeply
after he untied her, and L responding with caresses in so many different positions.
In fact, I masturbated and came as all this played in my head. But my orgasm was
short-circuited by the intrusion of L and Dave as a loving couple, kissing deeply and
passionately as I watched from an ever increasing distance.

Stephen's words came back to haunt me. "Dave does own a piece of her, and if you
asked her, I'm betting she'd admit it." We've had that talk, the one where L
confessed that I can't be what she needs in a real Dom. We've tried it, and I'm just
not wired that way. Rationally, L's sexual needs and fantasies are one thing, and the
total of our relationship is another. And Dave has been a reliable partner for years,
without the slightest indication that he'd ever endanger our marriage. Scenes like
the one I witnessed that night often cause me to ruminate afterwards, and I knew
reason always wins. It did that night as well, and eventually I slept.

[Don Jetman]

~Sunday~

I was up, showered, and dressed before L and Dave the next morning, which was rare. I
woke with an erection, but if I had been dreaming I couldn't remember the details. It
stayed with me in the shower, and the temptation to jerk off was almost unbearable.
But I resisted. I wanted to be haunted with it the rest of the day. I wanted to see L
with Dave again, to imagine them as a couple if we went out. And there was the
fallout from the night before - what would she say, or be wearing? How would she act
now that the role playing was over - if it actually was. I never knew what to expect
from L after one of these games. I never knew when it would end. And I was pretty
sure she knew that, and used it to play with me. If that was the case, I wanted to be
horny for every second of it.

An hour later they appeared, rumpled and bleary-eyed. Dave was in his boxers, and I
was still impressed with his physique for a guy his age. How did he stay so lean and
fit? L wore one of his dress shirts, unbuttoned from neck to crotch and the
outrageous black heels from the night before. I stared when her shirt parted now and
then and saw that she was wet - and was leaking semen along her inner thigh. Was
straying from our rules just another way to tease me, to push me into the kind of
drama she knew I was susceptible to? I thought of asking her, then thought better of
it. Maybe that's what they wanted - to see me freak out about his cum leaking out of
her. So I pretended not to notice.

As we ate, L asked me how I slept. I told her I slept pretty well - as well as I
usually sleep here. She knew what I meant and smiled at me.

"Mmmm - we slept well too. It just felt so right being back in Dave's bed. I just
love it - the way it feels. Maybe we should look for mattress like his. Or maybe it's
something else..."

She was grinning at me, teasing, trying to get me to respond. I decided to play, and
told her I doubted we could buy whatever made his bed so great. She liked that, and
told me I was so right.

"Dave promised to take me to the boat show today. You know, the one where we can
actually go on them and look around? We used to go all the time when we lived here,
remember? So what do you have planned today?"

When I told her I hoped I could go with them, L looked surprised.

"Really? You want to go? Why?"

I claimed to enjoy seeing all the floating palaces we could never afford, and that it
would be like old times there, but she wasn't satisfied.

"Oh, come on. Tell me why you really want to go with us. It's something else, isn't
it? You like to see us hold hands, and flirt a little in front of all those people,
don't you?"

I admitted I did. I wanted to see them as a couple in public. I wanted him to fondle
her, for her to kiss him, all in the open where everyone could see them - and where
everyone could see me as the friendly third wheel, just slightly embarrassed, and
jealous that I couldn't have a woman like her for my own.

"And..." she went on. I didn't know what else to say.

"You want everyone to know he's fucking me, right? And that you wish I'd fuck you
too, but know that I won't, because I belong to him?"

I had to admit, she was absolutely right, if a bit graphic about spelling it out
right there at the breakfast table. She was aggressive and fearless about the way she
baited me. It was a bizarre change from the total submissive I had seen when she had
been with Sir Stephen. I do love this about L, the way she can spin one hundred
eighty degrees in so little time, but it was always a bit shocking at first. This
visit was all about submission to her, about being owned by two men this time. Now,
overnight, she was the tease, the seductress, the wife who flaunts her sex with other
men in front of her surprised husband. Yes, it was hot, but so totally unexpected.
What had happened to her that could have ushered in the change overnight? Something
in Dave's bed? Or some inverse vestige of Sir Stephen's magic? I realized it might be
a long time before I knew, or it might be never. So I decided to accept and enjoy
whatever it would bring.

After we ate and the table was cleared, L went to Dave and fished his cock out of the
fly in his boxers. She didn't say a word. She just fingered it until he was hard,
went to her knees and began to suck him. If she was ready to put on a show for me, I
was ready to watch. I moved a chair to face them, sat, and watched his cock disappear
into her mouth. And then she stopped and looked at me again.

"You like watching me do this, don't you? Sucking him?"

It was easy to admit that I did. She started again, then stopped.

"You want him to come in my mouth, don't you?"

I told her I did, and she went back to work on him. And then stopped again.

"I want his sperm inside me, Don. I want it so much this time. Living and swimming
inside me, like it's part of me. You want to see that too, don't you? His sperm in
me? Tell me you do. Please? Tell me you do..."

There was something uneasy about telling her, something related to the semen I saw
dripping down her leg just an hour before. Is this what she wanted - my permission to
take his cum in her, everywhere? Or was this the usual game, the drama, the cliff's
edge they were daring me to approach and possibly tumble over? That was the
reasonable answer. It was always the game Dave planned here. Always pushing
boundaries. Watching me squirm as L forged a path in front of me. But she was so
different, so convincing, so determined. And there was the fresh semen on her leg.
Was that even real, or some concoction Dave had made to add a bitter twist to my
angst? Once again, it was impossible to tell. In the end, I told her.

"I - I want his sperm inside you, L. I want what you want. I do."

She sucked him until he came in her mouth. I watched her lips circle and contract
around the head of his cock as he spewed into her. She gulped it, cupping his balls
with one hand as she pumped him with the other. Long after we were married L had
never liked the taste of semen, and rarely enjoyed sucking cock. It made her jaw hurt
and she'd gag on the teaspoon of semen. Dave had done what I couldn't after so many
years, and I continued to wonder whether it was his skill as a teacher, or just L's
obsession to submit. She seemed so eager now, so determined to drain him and swallow
every drop of him. I always watched in wonder - how could she have grown to love his
cock in her mouth so much? She seemed to crave it.

They both looked like they had just crawled out of bed and I wondered if they had
fucked that morning. I wondered if L sucked his cock not long after it had been
inside her. The thought of them fucking in his bed, tangled in the sheets, then
clinging intimately to each other while they recovered was another step closer to her
being owned by him while we were there. By now I knew they wanted that - to make it
clear, to drive home the point that everything she was belonged to him there. The
intimacy between them grew as I watched, and it had the effect they wanted. I needed
her badly, and knowing I couldn't have her both hurt and excited me. It had become
almost unbearable, as though I may never have her again, although I knew (or hoped)
it was just the game. Her body was constantly on display. She was excited much of the
time, and knew I could see her pussy lips swollen, red, and pouting. She sat with her
legs open, walked with just enough swing to her hips to make me crazy. I tried to
think about being together when we went home again, but even an extra day of
surrendering her to Dave seemed like an eternity.

"Don, L needs to freshen up after the night we had. Why don't you do it - take her
down to your shower, wash her pretty little body for me, and shampoo her hair. She
tells me that sometimes you do it before her dates, so I'm sure you've had lots of
practice."

The three of us went to my basement bedroom and he ordered me to undress her. It was
only a matter of lifting the shirt off her shoulders and removing her shoes. But they
both exchanged knowing looks as I went to my knees and slid the black heels off her
feet.

"Don't get up just yet, Don. Take some time down there to look up at her. Between her
legs. Then up over her belly and tits. All that's mine now, Don. You understand that,
don't you?"

She was breathing deeply as I looked up along her body. She parted her legs a little,
and thrust her breasts out just enough to flaunt them. Just enough to tease me. To
make me a little more crazy for her.

I was so hard. I knew it was partly my craving for her body, but I also recognized
that it was the requirement of my total submission to them. I began to wonder if I
might cum then and there without touching myself. She was devastatingly beautiful,
naked, and forbidden.

He told me to undress and get in the shower with her. He kept the shower door open so
he could watch. It hurt to touch her with my bare hands. I soaped her as best I
could, trying not to let my hand or fingers escape the wash cloth. I felt as if I
might lose it if I touched her bare skin with mine. Her breasts and pussy were the
worst - they were pure torture. I knew I was washing away his semen, off her thighs,
and probably from between the lips of her pussy. She had broken our rule about
letting him cum in her, and yet I was given the task of removing the remnants of his
sperm from her. The mix of lusting after her naked body and having to wash away her
broken promise kept me painfully hard while I cleaned her. It was a strangely
conflicting feeling, taboo and erotic, shamefully submissive yet electric.

When I began to shampoo her hair, she stopped me.

"Dave likes the one he buys me - it makes my hair smell like coconut. Could you get
it for me, Dave? I promise not to let him touch me while you're gone - no matter how
hard he begs."

He came back a minute later with the bottle, and L let out quiet little "mmmms" as I
worked it into strands of hair I hadn't been allowed to touch in days. Her back was
turned toward me, and she kept edging her ass against my erection then pulling away
in seconds as though it was a mistake. The temptation to put my cock in her was nerve
wracking. She'd tilt her head back and slowly move it in circles it as I worked, as
if she dared me to touch any other part of her. I imagined Dave had done this every
time they fucked, and I thought she was likely thinking of his cock in her as I
massaged the lather into her hair.

Dave watched me dry her, and told me to dress her in the clothes he brought from
upstairs. Of course there was no bra or panties - only a tiny pair of bright pink
shorts and a white knit top. I held the light nylon shorts for her as she stepped
into them and pulled them up along her legs. There wasn't much to them - they were
thin and roomy with an elastic waistband. Slits up both sides were revealing enough
to let everyone know she was naked underneath. I thought back to a time when L never
would have worn them - hot pink would have been too girly and slutty, and daring to
go out in public with just a scrap of nylon covering her bare pussy would have been
out of the question. Now I wondered how she felt about wearing them. I knew it was
all about submitting to Dave's whims, and that he loved putting her in daring
situations, but was it also a little embarrassing for her? Or was she completely past
that - at least here with Dave? One of his words he used once to describe L suddenly
came to mind - "available". I could hear him say it - the way he emphasized it with
its intended meaning. The shorts made her pussy "available" - easily accessible to
anyone and everyone. Associating his word with the clothes he chose for her to wear
in public was a bit frightening to me, but it was mixed with eroticism. I'd be OK
with it if L dared to play. Hell, did I really have any say in it? Not when she was
with him.

I pulled the top over her head and stretched it down over her body, staring in wonder
at how it showed the outline her breasts and faint dark circles where the pink of her
nipples were revealed through the knit. It wasn't indecent to wear in public, but
anyone who stared long enough would see it. It was sleeveless and fit like a second
skin with a V-neck cut just low enough to show a hint of cleft between her breasts.
In a way it was still classy and appropriate, but didn't go with what the tiny shorts
said about her. After taking a final look at her, I knew that men would first be
taken by her classic face, then their stares would travel down her body, studying the
shape of her breasts, then down farther to fantasize about her naked pussy under the
shorts. That's when they'd want her. That's when the boldest of them would come up to
her, use their best line on her, or maybe just ask her to fuck him. The shorts would
make it so easy to let them in if she chose one of them. Her body would be so
available.

Dave stayed for a few minutes after L went upstairs to finish her hair and makeup.
Suddenly it was too weird being naked there without L in the room, so I turned my
back and dressed while he talked to me.

"You should enjoy today, Don. The boat show down at the water will be the perfect
place to show her off. You like that, don't you? Watching men stare at her, and maybe
even try to seduce her in front of you?"

He knew I did, and I told him yes, he had remembered exactly what I liked.

"You should find it interesting to see whether she's changed when you get home this
time."

"You mean after being with 'Sir' Stephen?" I asked.

"Yes, exactly. Maybe you've noticed something already. He was very taken with her,
and she with him. You could tell, couldn't you?"

Could I really? There were too many games to be sure on these visits, and I knew it
was Dave's thing to cast doubt and suspend disbelief. I had seen L be very persuasive
when she was this submissive. She was a better actress and game player each time she
was given a part to play. Without prior experience in Dave's hands, a husband could
be led to believe his wife might actually be taken by a charismatic Dom and
permanently belong to him. But even after the most extreme games, L would be reliably
L when we returned home. She would tease me relentlessly, want sex with me constantly,
and ultimately love me as she always had. But Dave had never pushed quite as hard
about the lasting effect one of L's men would have on her - at least not during one
of our private talks.

"Maybe you noticed how they looked at each other. Maybe even something about a
father-daughter connection there? And no, I'm not saying she wants to fuck her
father, but have you ever thought about why she's so eager to submit to older men?
Oh, I know what you're going to say - that she loves young cock and perfect young
bodies. That's physical pleasure - it's intense but fleeting. Has she ever bonded
with any of them like she has with me? Does she run back to them when she needs a
deeper kind of satisfaction? I know she doesn't.

"Stephen and I understand women like L - what drives them, what they need, even if
they don't always know themselves. What makes L special is that she knows what she
wants, and she's often willing to chase after it. We've only known one other like L,
the pretty wife no one would suspect hungers to live out her most extreme fantasies.
A wife with powerful and obsessive needs her husband can't give her.

"We've talked about this before, Don. That magic L has, how she can appear so
innocent, so conventional, then without warning slip into a role she's become more
and more comfortable with - the role of the siren without a conscience, a wife with
no loyalty or guilt, even a predator that's driven to satisfy her hunger for
something different, something dangerous with maximum risk.

"We don't want to take her from you, Don - well, not completely. But Stephen could
easily own a part of her, just as I do. She needs an emotional connection to feel
safe in her submission. She needs trust, and mature guidance to be able to submit
completely. Stephen can give her all that - in fact, has given her all that already.
You can trust him to be discreet, to value your privacy, and to never harm her. And I
think you can trust L to see him as she sees me - a guiding hand throughout the
opportunity to live out her sexual fantasies. We're not looking for wives or
girlfriends, Don. We could get that anywhere. L is special in so many other ways. I
suppose you could say we need her almost as much as she needs us."

[Don Jetman]

~*~


We spent the afternoon ogling boat after boat, boarding some with extravagant
staterooms, and admiring some just built for speed. L got her share of looks, but no
overt proposals to fuck. It was too crowded for that, and many of the lookers were
couples. Still, I looked, watched, stared at L every chance I had, in every light, in
every position I found to be enticing. She was just so delicious, and I needed her so
badly.

Later we found some shade under an open pavilion on the beach. Dave bought us each a
tropical concoction of rum and fruit juices at the bar and we sat and watched the
tourists wade out into the breaking waves. It was a relaxing way to spend our last
day, but my mind was also on Dave's persuasive talk just hours before.

As we decided to leave to get some dinner, we stood and waited for L to return from
the small unisex restroom. On her way back she was a few yards from us when a young
guy in baggy surfer trunks approached her. She stopped and talked for a while, and
eventually Dave and I walked over to them. The guy ignored us for a minute or so, and
I could see he was trying to persuade L to go with him. Finally she turned and
grinned at us.

"He wants me to go to a party," she said, flashing her brightest smile. She stood
there waiting for everyone's reaction, looking back at the guy to see if he had the
balls to win her. We all just stood and waited for what Dave and I knew would be the
ultimate tease. When none of us said a word, she went to the guy, put her hands on
his bare chest, and kissed him on the mouth. He was lean and tall, and she had to
rise up on her toes to reach him. I held my breath as I saw her shorts rise up and
wedge into the crevice between her legs and her ass cheeks peek from beneath the
pink nylon stretched over them.

It wasn't a long kiss, but she made sure to open her mouth and drink him in. When he
put his hands on her ass and pulled her closer she broke the kiss, stepped away,
shook her finger at him, and with her killer grin told him, "Nuh-uhh - bad boy!" Then
she walked back to us, took Dave's hand, and told the guy, "Sorry, I'm with him. It
was a nice kiss though...". The poor guy looked confused and lost, as though he
didn't know what to do next. We left him there to wonder what had happened, and to
savor L's deep, devilish kiss.

We stopped at one of the better seafood restaurants a few miles inland and had to
wait for a table. L was in rare form and couldn't keep her hands off Dave, poking and
tickling him, then putting her arm around him, and even a few pecks on his cheek now
and then. She was happy and playful, and I knew the drink at the beach was at least
partly responsible. I was feeling it myself, surprised that so much alcohol could be
disguised by the icy fruit mix.

It was after we were well into our main course that I saw a couple seated across the
room we knew years ago when we lived there. L hadn't stopped her teasing and intimate
touching with Dave, and she had moved her chair slightly closer to him to make that
easier. I glanced over at the couple we once knew, and caught them glancing at us as
well. They looked away at once, but I'm sure we had given them something to talk
about later to all their current friends. I wondered what they would come away with,
if they had even heard of "hotwives" or "cuckolding". They had been very straight-
laced, regular church goers, and active in many community activities. L had met the
wife at a church charity event and they had invited us to dinner a few times. I didn't
have much in common with them, but was friendly because L liked them. Heh - in those
days, L was a lot like the wife. Hotwifing was lightyears away from anything L would
have understood. L's back was toward them, and I didn't call attention to it or even
tell her about them until we got home. I came away a bit embarrassed, but also proud
that L wasn't that wife anymore. I wanted her so badly - guess I've said that already,
but it was getting harder and harder to resist her. God, I wanted her.

[Don Jetman]

~*~


And that night, this - to drive the spike home, to assure me that it wasn't a party
trick, or illusion, or predictable in any sense I could have expected. I was expected
to see, relive, consume, and digest it. As if I had any say - which I didn't...

They fucked in front of me on the sofa, ignoring me as if I wasn't there at all. I
sat quietly on the adjacent love seat as my erection grew and I anticipated L's
familiar little sounds - the high-pitched, closed-mouthed "mmm"s and deeper, throaty
moans as she closed in on her orgasm. She loved straddling him as he sat upright,
settling down into his lap, pressing tightly into him as she took as much cock as she
could get. She'd stop there, circling her hips a little, grinding her clit against
him with the full length of his cock inside her. I knew what it felt like when she
gripped my dick and milked me like that, and I knew she was doing her best to show
him, and me, her hidden talent. I wondered if she gripped him even tighter, milked
him harder, but knew he felt the clenching vise of her pussy I knew so well.

"You're so much bigger than my husband. I wish he could fuck me like this. I just
couldn't tell him how much better you are. I think about you when I have sex with him
- wishing your cock was inside me, wishing you would come in me. I want you to come
in me - please - he'll never know."

There is role playing, and there is serious role playing, and then there is the
truth. I assumed the first, then the second. But L was so serious, so convincing,
never giving me the usual glance and grin that told me she was acting.

"Are you going to tell him?" Dave asked as she sank again onto the full length of his
bare cock.

"Maybe it's time he knows how much I want you to come in me. I get to decide now."

Hello? I'm right here - I can hear you. But that was the point, I guessed. Fucking as
though I wasn't there, as though I didn't matter. It was edgy, and beyond anything
the three of us had done before - well, I suppose because it was so convincing and L
ignored me completely.

I watched her milk him, minute by minute. She took his face in her hands and looked
into his eyes until he came in her, her voice soft and pleading.

"That's it - come in me - he won't care - he won't even know. I want it. I want all
of you in me - all of you - all of you..."

He played with her hair, neck and breasts as she sucked at him with her pussy, never
rising up, always grinding, stopping, grinding, stopping, until he groaned and
flooded her.

Jesus - she dipped her finger down between them and sucked it clean, then wet it
again and fed him some of it too. Finally she collapsed quietly against him with her
arms around him, murmuring in his ear just loud enough for me to hear.

"I wonder what he'd do if he knew? If he'd be upset? But it would be fun, wouldn't it?
Making Don watch it? Making him watch you come in me over and over with no silly
condoms while we're here? Showing him that now I can do whatever I want? I think I'd
like that - wouldn't you?"

They simply walked past me, his arm around her waist, her hand stroking the back of
his neck as they climbed the stairs to his bedroom.

[Don Jetman]

~Monday~

L was herself on the flight home. She had kissed Dave goodbye when he dropped us at
the airport, took my hand, and led me inside, through security, and then to our gate.
She was brighter than usual, almost as if she was going on vacation rather than
returning from one. She found a magazine on gardening and home improvement in the
airport book store and talked about how we might landscape the back yard to include
another flower bed.

The trip home was usually torture - we couldn't talk at all in public about what we
had been through. I had thousands of questions, and L had thousands of ways she'd
tease me when I asked. But all that had to simmer in silence in airports and planes
during the six hour journey home. I was always a bit fearful and hesitant, and L was
always quietly satisfied. I needed resolution and reclaiming, while she seemed to be
happy to hold my hand and smile. It was maddening trying to conceal my erections
while imagining L reliving great sex with Dave and the other men she had sampled. But
by now I had some small consolation that L knew what I went through - a squeeze of
my hand on the plane, or even a quick, hidden squeeze of my erection when no one
would notice - all of it promised me the best sex we could possibly have when we
got home.

As usual I was distracted by the attention L drew from other men, in the airports or
in the crowded cabin of the plane. Dave had provided a white summer dress for her to
wear home - vanilla at first glance, but short enough to show a lot of thigh when she
sat. A row of widely spaced buttons down the front would part slightly now and then,
and without a bra her breasts would be tantalizing glimpses of flesh for anyone who
had the patience to watch and wait for it. L took it all in stride, not noticing or
caring that she might be showing too much skin for a few seconds, or even minutes at
a time. It was as though she had become so used to going without a bra or panties
that she no longer missed them. At least that's what I told myself.

L was never pursued, hit on, nor did she flirt on the trip home. Lots of men looked,
but no one acted on whatever fantasies they had about her. Not that I didn't have
plenty of my own that involved a young stud taking her in the plane's lavatory, or a
pilot suggesting she spend an hour with him during a layover. It's strange that as
much as I wanted her for myself, I could never stop imagining her with a new man she
couldn't say 'no' to before we fucked again.

We fucked minutes after the Uber driver pulled away. It was our own familiar bed, in
our own familiar bedroom, but the electric charge Dave left us with always lasted for
months. We always brought the excitement and the weight of our time with him with us
into our bed. L knew how to tease me about our time there in ways only she could, and
I filled in the blanks with unseen visions of her taking cock, fueled by her explicit
confessions.

As for Sir Stephen, L had no certain answers. She was definitely mesmerized by him,
and admitted he was much like Dave in how she easily and willingly responded to his
challenging erotic demands and needs. She told me she could easily be owned by him in
the way Dave owns her, even before I told her about Dave's private talk with me. I
said it had helped me understand and possibly even accept it if she chose him, or
even Dave and Sir Stephen to play out our fantasies. She was cautious and uncertain -
maybe because she couldn't yet admit to herself that two owners were possible. Or
maybe, for both L and me, it would be a step too close to the edge of that cliff we
were both all too familiar with.

Still, as time passes, I can't get it out of my head. There are caution signs
everywhere - L's decision to let Dave come in her, now probably a regular occurrence
there - L giving her time to two owners, men who will share the time she spends having
sex in new and unknown ways. Would I forfeit time with L to them? Would two Doms pull
her into a world where I was faced with increasing inability to give her what she
needs?

Ultimately it will be L's decision. And for all my reservation and uncertainty, the
raw idea of it, the pleasure it could bring L, and the constant enticement and
addiction of the lifestyle, well, in a way it calls to me. It pulls me in, sets my
imagination on fire, and whispers to me that the cliff isn't real, or it's at least
much farther away than L and I imagine. I'm not sure there is any escape for us.
Hell, I'm pretty sure we wouldn't want it anyway. As revelations of L's time with
Sir Stephen unfold, L seems even more fearless to proceed. She's confessed her
obsession with him, and her willingness to let him have her. I think she's decided.
I can tell by the way she says his name when she comes...

~*~

There she stood in the doorway;
I heard the mission bell
And I was thinking to myself
'This could be heaven or this could be Hell'
Then she lit up a candle and she showed me the way
There were voices down the corridor,
I thought I heard them say...
...
Such a lovely place.
Such a lovely face.
...
Mirrors on the ceiling,
The pink champagne on ice
And she said, 'we are all just prisoners here, of our own device'
...
Last thing I remember, I was
Running for the door
I had to find the passage back to the place I was before
'Relax' said the night man,
'We are programmed to receive.
You can check out any time you like,
But you can never leave...'


~end~

[DavidnDaria]

Don,

Wow. I'm speechless. Such a powerful, powerful story. You sir, are a master at retelling with your incredible lucidity, which is laced this time with uncertainty.

I'll leave you with this tonight... my wife calls.

L's Dream and your response...

"Hush now don't cry
Wipe away the teardrop from your eye
You're lying safe in bed
It was all a bad dream
Spinning in your head
Your mind tricked you to feel the pain
Of someone close to you leaving the game of life
So here it is, another chance
Wide awake you face the day
Your dream is over
Or has it just begun?"

[Don Jetman]

Thanks, David. Glad you enjoyed it.

Actually, I "lucid dream" all the time, usually just before waking in the morning. Our time with Dave only seems like a dream after we've returned home for a while. It's all very real there, even when we know it's directed by someone else. More of a real-life play with the ultimate opportunity to improvise. Waking from the "dream" is still so important to us though. Reclaiming, demystifying our characters' "scripts", and just putting our feet back on familiar ground - assurance that all that always takes place is never far from our minds while we're in the "dream". This particular dream still may not be over though - L reveals more and more of her time with Sir Stephen every day.

Don

[trdd]

Very well written Don. You've got a talent for it, for sure.

Would it spoil anything to speak of how much of your inspiration is reality and how much is fantasy?

[Don Jetman]

For me it's always about how much of what I see and hear is real. L used to be more hesitant to say things that would humiliate me, even slightly. She'd follow an improvised script, or repeat what she was told to say, but I could always tell it was acting. These days, especially when she's horny or in one of her submissive moods, it's often impossible to tell. Things get blended, confused. I pay even closer attention to every little inflection of her voice and every movement of her body, trying to tease out the truth. She's admitted she gets more and more pleasure from teasing me, watching my reaction when things get heavy. Essentially she and Dave plan the theme, but I don't always know how thoroughly they've discussed the details. After a certain point, it's mostly improv.

L and I always talk later about how much of what she said and did was driven by what she thought should be done, vs. that which she was driven to do by her unchained fantasies. I get various answers. A lot of it starts with role playing and evolves into the real thing for her. But sometimes she says she doesn't know, or can't remember. Whether that's true or not, I'm not sure. To be honest, I think sometimes the truth scares her a little, and she's also afraid she'll upset me. I do know that I can get lost in the emotion of what happens and miss or forget the details. Sometimes L fills me in, and sometimes I rely on the notes I take while we're there. I should know by now it's all a game, but it's become a game that can wrap its tendrils around reality now and then. That sometimes we can't distinguish the difference is what makes it so exciting, and a bit dangerous.

I'm really not comfortable with her disappearing for days with Stephen - I get nothing from it (except angst and worry) and I'm only now beginning to learn what they did while she was with him. I get what Dave tries to do - add mystery to the idea of other men having her. But I both hate worrying about it (even after the fact), and pressing L for details before she's ready. Until I know for sure, all that is fantasy (in my head). Maybe they didn't do anything except have straight sex. Or maybe it was kinkier than I imagined. He knows I'll worry and fantasize, so he takes it out of my hands to add to the surreal experience. So, I guess it's fantasy at first, then it seems to become real, then fantasy again when L and I get home and shed light on the difference.

Don

[azsurfer77]

Well written, as are all of your writings, Don. I have enjoyed them immensely.

I was taken by one paragraph in this story..."So, if I ordered it, would you stay with me? Would you send your husband back home
and stay with me? Belong to me? You loved my friends' cocks, didn't you, L. Would you
fuck me and my friends as often as we wish? Do anything we want with you?" by Sir Stephen.

Did L really allow multiple partners that night at Sir Stephens? Has she told you anything of what went on at Sir Stephens.

[DbdChap]

Well written, as are all of your writings, Don. I have enjoyed them immensely.

I was taken by one paragraph in this story..."So, if I ordered it, would you stay with me? Would you send your husband back home
and stay with me? Belong to me? You loved my friends' cocks, didn't you, L. Would you
fuck me and my friends as often as we wish? Do anything we want with you?" by Sir Stephen.

Did L really allow multiple partners that night at Sir Stephens? Has she told you anything of what went on at Sir Stephens.

I’ve been absolutely gripped by this story too, and couldn’t stop reading!! I was also desperate to know what happened with Sir Stephen. I’ve never felt such a feeling in the pit of my stomach when I read he drove away with L naked in the car. It still makes me feel uneasy now!! Wonderful writing, and such an intriguing adventure. Thanks for sharing.

[Ben_Bradman]

Don, once again an extraordinarily well written story even by your standards which are way up there rivalling famous professional writers!

You just know how to capture the ambience, the emotions, the under-the-hoods of interactions between people in a given setting, and lay them out in words that makes me feel I am almost there watching those people who I am beginning to know more.

On that note, please can you describe Sir Stephen a bit more? Age, body type, style, demeanor, profession, and so on...anything you can give us to enable us to "get his character". It appears that L will see him certainly next time and in future.

Also it'd be lovely if you can share some more of what Sir Stephen did with L from Thursday evening to Saturday evening, if you've built enough of that collage by extracting bits and pieces from L. How many of Sir Stephen's friends got the opportunity to enjoy L sexually in that period? In what ways did he express his dominance, in which areas did he demand submission, what did he attempt to change or what did he feel needed further training (apart from walking correctly in those killer heels!)?

[Don Jetman]

L has been slower than usual to tell me about her time with Stephen. I'm trying not to be too intense, trying to read her, careful not to pry the details out of her before she's ready. I'm not sure if it's just more of her way of teasing me, or whether things happened she's now embarrassed by. This does happen now and then - we do things in the heat of the moment that we're uncomfortable with later when the urges pass. She seems to be increasing the limits of her submissiveness each time we visit Dave, and it concerns me somewhat. More than likely it's like what we've seen together over the years - that we need a bit more extreme experience to outdo the last one. Like L's submissiveness, I'm more open these days to genuine cuckolding - my fantasy thoughts of humiliation are increasing. I'm not really proud of having Dave or Stephen (or her other lovers) put me in my place there, but it goes with "giving" L to them, surrendering my wife to them while I have to look on helplessly with so much desire for her.

Stephen appears to be in his late 50s, with light brown hair that is slightly silvering. He's average height and weight and dresses well. He reminded me of an aging Robert Redford. He seemed excessively formal, which could have just been part of the role he played. He seemed intelligent and confident, but if he's done this before as Gail implied, it may be just scripting and experience as well. L has told me he got off on humiliating her, much more so than Dave ever has.

Stephen undressed L and gave her a long bath at his home when they arrived. He soaped her himself at first, but mostly wanted her to bath herself as he watched. After that, true to the book, he tied her hands over her head and"whipped" her with a fake whip made of long strips of soft cloth. She said it tickled a little but wasn't painful. While she was whipped, he wanted her to tell him she belonged to him, not me anymore. He seemed to want proof of her betrayal, to both me and Dave, and she said she told him what he wanted to hear. He wanted to know if she would give up sex with me and Dave completely and only give herself to him, and she said she agreed just to go with his game. I really wish I could heard that, how convincing she might have been. I imagine her body twisting and squirming as she answered him. I asked L if, during her "betrayal" as she was whipped, whether just for a second she may have fantasized about that - about giving up sex with me to belong to him. At first she said no, of course not, but stopped and admitted that at the time it was exciting and sexy. We need to talk more about this.

Stephen wanted to see her masturbate, so he put her on his bed and she played with herself for a few minutes. She admitted this was strangely exciting, mostly because she was doing it in front of a man she didn't know. L has had fantasies of having sex in front of strangers for a long time, ever since an incident in college when she fucked a guy in his room at his frat house and found that they had an audience when they finished. After that Stephen and L fucked, then slept together in his bed. L enjoyed it, but said he didn't last long and she didn't orgasm.

I was concerned about his "friends" comment. L had sex with multiple men when she visited Dave on her own in the past, but didn't survive it well. It was a while before her guilt and embarrassment subsided. Apparently his talk of sex with all his friends was an exaggeration. She did meet his friends when they cruised a few bars the next night, but none of them fucked her. L was embarrassed by the talk between them as Stephen implied she was a wife who was fucking him and probably would fuck them too. The men did a lot of looking and hitting on her, but never touched her inappropriately. L isn't a bar person, so she was out of her element anyway. More than anything, L thinks Stephen's a voyeur - he wanted to show her off in bar after bar after dressing her in a very short skirt and blouse that was unbuttoned most of the way down the front. She also had to wear the stiletto heels, so I can imagine she got a lot of looks and propositions. L said she was glad the bars were fairly dark - she was nervous having her breasts so exposed and was always worried about being thrown out or arrested.

We talked a lot about the bar environment. I know she doesn't like bars or drunks, and asked her if the entire night was disappointing. She didn't know how to answer right away, but finally admitted that the looks from the other men were extremely exciting - and that she fantasized about fucking some of them. When I asked her if she might have if Stephen ordered her to, she told me maybe, if it was one of the men she was attracted to, but sex with drunks isn't her thing and most had been drinking for a while. I'm not sure I got a complete answer to that, but I suppose I would have had to be there to know.

To add to the voyeurism Stephen seemed to enjoy, a young friend of Stephen's went with them on the bar hop and came home with them after. Stephen ordered L to undress him and fuck him, and he simply told them what he wanted them to do, watched them fuck, and eventually disappeared to his bedroom by himself. L and the guy slept together on the sofa. L was immediately taken with Stephen's friend and said he had a perfect body, was very good looking, and was forward and confident enough to get her wet. "I really wish he lived closer to us," she told me later.

Don

[Don Jetman]

I guess I've been a bit too wrapped up in my talks with L to remember to thank all of you who replied with questions. It is much appreciated. I'm going to try to respond to as much as possible as L tells me more. I was interested (and concerned) about Stephen, and about what began to look like L's infatuation with him after we returned home. As time passes it's become easier for her to talk about him - in fact, she seems to like talking about him more and more.

Even though she had great sex with Stephen's young friend, she says she's still very attracted to Stephen, maybe more so than his friend. She wanted to be pushed, to be taken further than before, in a different way. As much as I assumed her discomfort in the bar scene was certain, I was at least in part wrong - she said she enjoyed it. She felt sexier and sluttier in that environment, and knew that she could tease men who would want something they couldn't have. She also wanted to see whether Stephen would protect her, or offer her to other men there. She was impressed that he didn't give her up to anyone, that owning her really meant something to him. I questioned how she knew she meant more to him than a submissive toy he could use for sex. After all, he gave her to his young friend that entire night after watching them fuck. She had been with Stephen for just twenty-four hours.

She spent a lot of time talking about Stephen, about his intelligence, maturity and his potential dark side. I asked her if she thought he's really closer to a Bull than Dave is, and she agreed.

"I never know what to expect with him - but I like the way he handles me, even if it is sometimes scary."

I asked her if he's the kind of Bull I could never be for her, and she admitted that was exactly right - that he's unpredictable and scary at times, even more of a wild card than Dave, but for some reason she trusts him not to hurt her. She told me, "I get this warm feeling between my legs when I'm with him, even if he's not touching me. I feel sexy around him even when we're not having sex."

So how is it that she's so excited when the sex wasn't the best she'd had, in fact, the way she told it, far from it? It took her a while to think how to describe it. She began by telling me that it's his attitude.

"He just seems to be more, um, self-confident - more arrogant then you or Dave. Maybe it's his voice, the way he speaks. When he tells me to do something, I have to listen, and I do it. I guess I feel inferior to him in some ways, which really does it for me when I want to be owned. I wouldn't want a steady diet of it, but at the right times, the rush of having him own me is so intense."

OK - I get that. But doesn't the sex count? She had told me she didn't even cum the first night they were together - that he couldn't stay hard long enough. Her answer was that it was a one-time thing. She went on to say he was a caring and skillful lover, that they fucked in the mornings and through the day during her time with him, often as a reward for her training.

So, what was that like? Her training? L wasn't as ready to talk about that, but said he wanted her to master the stiletto heels in a way that advertised her hunger for sex by the way she walked. He wanted more betrayal - for her to admit - to say over and over out loud - that he was all she needed and that she promised her body only to him. All that accompanied by the faux-whipping. When I wanted her to tell me more, about what she promised him, and how being tied and "whipped" affected her, she grew quiet and told me she couldn't. I was desperate to know why, but could tell I should settle for what she was ready to give me. Maybe it was too complicated for her to explain, or maybe she thought it was too intense for me to hear. That didn't make waiting any easier, but I know by now to let L keep her secrets until she's ready to spring them on me.

She did say he gave her intensely deep and "submissive orgasms", whatever that means. When I asked her if she could tell me what it felt like, she said she'd "get lost in him", like she partially "dissolved into him" and was not herself during her orgasms. "It was like he took my orgasms from me, and I gave them to him so willingly, like a gift or reward. It felt like they were passing out of me, dissolving into him."

"So, you did like his cock? It stayed hard and was big enough to make you cum from then on?"

"It was big enough, and hard enough. That's all I needed with him. For an older man, he was very satisfying."

Well, it wasn't the graphic answer I was looking for, and kind of an evasion, I thought. But he made her happy, and L wasn't one to lie to me about her lovers' abilities. Whatever he did, it was enough to make her carry her memories of him home with her, and to mention his name daily in the weeks that have followed.

Don

[samlowen]

"She seems to be increasing the limits of her submissiveness each time we visit Dave, and it concerns me somewhat. More than likely it's like what we've seen together over the years - that we need a bit more extreme experience to outdo the last one."

Where do you think the proverbial line in the sand is, based on your comment about needing a bit more extreme experience each time? You and L continue to push your line farther into the desert. Have you two talked about what that final step might be for each of you? If L came to you and said she wanted to spend a significant amount of time, much more than a week, maybe an entire summer being trained by Dave and Stephen, what would you say?

[Don Jetman]

"She seems to be increasing the limits of her submissiveness each time we visit Dave, and it concerns me somewhat. More than likely it's like what we've seen together over the years - that we need a bit more extreme experience to outdo the last one."

Where do you think the proverbial line in the sand is, based on your comment about needing a bit more extreme experience each time? You and L continue to push your line farther into the desert. Have you two talked about what that final step might be for each of you? If L came to you and said she wanted to spend a significant amount of time, much more than a week, maybe an entire summer being trained by Dave and Stephen, what would you say?

We've never actually talked about what extreme might be the final limit (as a couple). I know we both have our personal limits, but sometimes I wonder how many of those we started with might be crossed. I'm afraid to think about it too closely. There a few things L said she won't do that she's already done - sex with six guys in one night when she stayed with Dave on her own in the past, and sex without condoms (recently, but only with Dave). She and Dave have pretty much taken the lead in pushing the envelope these days - I sometimes feel like I'm just following along. But we still have the most fun being taken for a ride together for brief periods, then using the memories to have great sex together for a much longer time. The need to explore is a lot like a drug for us.

But things may have taken a turn. Dave has known us for a very long time and understands what makes us tick. He's not perfect, but he almost always knows how far to push us, and I think we give him more room because we know him, like him, and trust him. Even times when we look back on one of his new little games and cringe, we, I dunno, maybe just cave and accept things because as a trusted partner he legitimizes them. "Well, it was Dave's idea, so it wasn't that gut-wrenching, was it?" Stephen is an unknown. I worry that he's too arrogant (and maybe too perverse) to even take the time to get to know us. And I worry that stretching L too far may scare her away from the lifestyle permanently. And I suppose there's always the angst that creeps out of the shadows when she appears to be infatuated with someone new and charismatic. We'll continue to play this one out as L wishes for the time being, but I'm on alert, for her sake and for the sake of our marriage.

I would not agree to let her spend long periods of time with Dave, and especially not Stephen. She's spent as much as a week on her own with Dave in the past, and by the end I'm aching for her. You also have to understand that the thread that runs through these submissive periods in our lives is not static or ever-present. This submissiveness isn't who we are 98% of the time. I've said before that we both drift in and out of these phases over time, and maybe not even at the same time. High stress loads, long periods away from each other when I travel a lot, and just basically anything that interferes with our sex life appears to bring these desires on over time. The frustration escalates, we go to Dave to express it, purge it, come home satisfied, then settle in to our regular routine - until it raises it's head again, either for L or both of us. I doubt L would want to be "trained" for any longer than it would take to release the buildup of her submissive fantasies. Still, if she really wanted it, I'd listen and try to help her make the best decision "Mr. Spock" (as she calls me) can. I could possibly be convinced to let her go for that long as an experiment, if she really begged, but I'm sure I'd regret it, and I think she'd tire of it long before a month or an entire summer passed.

I will admit though that a prolonged period of "training" L is a very sexy fantasy. Hell, just imagining her becoming skilled at strolling along, rolling her hips in those stilettos gets me hard...but maybe it won't take nearly that long. She's still practicing...

Don

[dana007]

Don
As of now has L talked about going back. to see Dave or Steven yet.