In the Hands of Her Desire

[mattyg_2671]

One of my favourites ever, I hope there is more to come!

Glad you're enjoying it. Yes there is more to come. Quite a lot more. Time and life (see response above) have got in the way as they often do. I will just crave your patience and hope you enjoy the results. Elliot's world is about to get a lot more complex.

I’ll try and be patient. It’s probably for the best as I’m locked up again now and more chapters would not make my life more comfortable in the cage!!

[chastity_boi]

Part 42: The Taste of Freedom

The Uber ride home was suffocating.

Claire slid into the backseat first, tugging Jordan in after her with a giddy urgency. Elliot hesitated for a second before climbing in beside them, the door clicking shut like the seal of a vault. The air was heavy with perfume, sweat, and something else he couldn't ignore. The scent of sex.

Claire was still glowing. Her hair a tangled mess, her lips smudged, her nylons torn just above the knee. She didn’t bother to fix it. If anything, she seemed to wear her dishevelment like a badge of honor.

Jordan rested a hand on her thigh possessively as she settled next to him and the car pulled away from the curb. She didn’t stop him.

Elliot sat pressed against the far door, silent and awkward. Acutely aware of his wife next to him but clearly gravitating towards the man on the other side of her. He had never felt more like a third wheel. The city passed by in a blur of amber and shadow, but he couldn’t focus on anything outside the car. Not when Claire was curled into Jordan’s side, as they whispered amongst themselves, their hands over each other as their journey continued

Then she lent in and kissed him. Right there in the back of the Uber. Not a peck. Not a polite, post-date kiss. It was deep, slow, unhurried. Their mouths opened against each other, tongues moving like they were alone. Claire moaned softly into it, a sound Elliot had only ever heard in the bedroom and rarely for him lately.

The driver kept his eyes on the road, for now at least but Elliot caught his eyes briefly flicker in the rear view mirror to glimpse what was taking place on the back seat of his car before quickly focusing back to the road.

Elliot sat motionless. His hands in his lap. His stomach in knots not knowing where to look as his wife made out with Jordan like a couple of horny teenagers next to him. Unsure what to do with himself his mind wandered. He wondered who the man at the club had been. The tall Black stranger who had pulled Claire into the haze of lights and bodies and away from the dance floor after they had danced together so suggestively. Had she followed him into the men’s room like she had with Jordan weeks ago? Had she debased herself and knelt for him willingly on the filthy toilet floor? Did she beg for his cock like a cheap whore? Had she kissed him the way she was now kissing Jordan? Had she only sucked him off or had she given herself up to the stranger completely? The questions circled Elliot's brain but couldn't distract him from the scene playing out right next to him.

Before he could even consider any of this, Claire broke the kiss just long enough to breathe, her voice low and teasing. “You are so hot… so much better than my husband,” she whispered against Jordan’s lips. Again Elliot caught the driver's eyes in the mirror widen in shock at Claire's words before taking a longer glance at the two making out behind him. His eyes momentarily flashed to Elliot. Was that a tinge of pity in the look he gave before realizing Elliot was watching and returning his eyes away from Elliot's stare.

Elliot clenched his fists.

What was she becoming now? now that the floodgates were open? And more to the point what was he becoming himself?

It wasn’t just Jordan anymore. She had crossed another threshold. Invited someone new inside her. A stranger. No intimacy. No connection. Just primal want driven by lust and the sexual thrill of it all.

And she had chosen it. Deliberately. She had pushed the envelope of their game beyond anything Elliot had ever expected.

But only because Elliot had asked for this. Because he had imagined this. Because he had begged her for it.

But also because Jordan had demanded it of her.

And now it was real.

Jordan’s hand slid higher on her thigh, disappearing beneath the hem of her dress. Claire sighed contentedly, nuzzling into him like a satisfied lover. She didn’t even glance at Elliot as she attempted to stifle her moans.

He stared at the back of the driver’s head, trying to steady his breathing.

Was this the future? Watching her make out with another man just inches away? Watching her return from strangers marked and used only to be told what she’d given away as she rubbed his nose in her adultery? Would he always be the one sitting apart, aching and hard, while Claire glowed in someone else’s arms?

What happens when this stops being a game? When she stops needing his permission? Or maybe they had already reached that point. On the basis of Claire's behavior at the club it certainly seemed like that was now the case.

The car slowed. They were almost home.

Jordan finally spoke, his voice casual. “She was good tonight.”

Claire laughed softly and turned to look at Elliot, eyes half-lidded and smug. “You should’ve seen his face,” she said, biting her lip. “He couldn’t believe I wanted it.”

Elliot swallowed. “Did you?” he asked, barely able to find his voice.

Her smile didn’t waver. “I didn’t just want it. I needed it... So badly. You have no idea babe.”

Jordan’s fingers squeezed her thigh, approving.

The car came to a stop outside their building.

Jordan reached for the door handle and jumped out thanking the driver as he went. Claire shuffled across to follow, then paused. She looked back at Elliot, her expression softening, just a little.

“You okay?” she asked, her voice quieter now. Not apologetic. But not cruel either.

He nodded slowly. “I think so.”

“Good,” she said. “Because this doesn’t end here.”

Jordan's hand extended to help Claire step onto the sidewalk. She took it easily, her bare leg sliding out exposed shamelessly. She adjusted her dress, still slightly askew from her activities at the club and the ride home before leaning into Jordan's arms.

Elliot mumbled a thank you to the driver as he opened the door on his side and got out. He didn't miss the knowing smile the driver exchanged with Jordan and he shut the door quickly, glad to be alone again in his shame.

Claire and Jordan walked to the building entrance-way close together before his hand lazily slid across Claire’s lower back. He felt a silent thrill burning in him at this seemingly small but nonetheless possessive act by Jordan that taunted Elliot and again challenged his position as Claire's husband. Elliot, his heart seemingly louder than his footsteps, followed behind them. Behind her. And somehow, that felt right. Even if it hurt.

The air outside their building was cool, but his skin felt fevered. He was seconds behind them as they crossed into the lobby, Claire’s heels clicking softly across the marble tiles. They approached the elevator.

And that’s when Elliot saw him. The man from the club. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dark skin. Athletic. Smiling like he belonged there. Elliot's blood froze and time stopped for a split second as his whole world seemed to cave in upon him. Sudden panic rising within him.

The guy was leaning against the wall with the relaxed posture of someone waiting on friends and when he looked up and saw them, he grinned.

“About time,” he said.

Claire lit up, her eyes bright. “Michael,” she said warmly, crossing the short distance between them to kiss him on the cheek. Her fingers lingered on his arm.

Jordan clapped him on the back. “Didn’t I say we’d bring dessert?”

Michael laughed. Deep and easy. “I'm looking forward to seconds.”

Elliot stopped mid-step. “Wait... you all know each other?”

Claire turned toward him, her expression unreadable. It was somewhere between amused and indulgence. “Of course we do. Michael’s a friend of Jordan’s.”

Elliot blinked at Jordan. “You... you didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t ask,” Jordan said simply.

Elliot’s eyes darted between them. “So... the whole thing at the club… you set that up?”

Michael shrugged, grinning. “Didn’t take much setting up. Your wife is fucking hot my friend.”

Elliot’s stomach twisted. “You didn’t fuck him?”

Claire tilted her head. “Oh he's fucked me." It was a confession meant to wound and arouse in equal measure.

She let the sentence land like a dropped wine glass. Elliot's eyes widened in shock, inhaling sharply as he tried to wrap his brain around the head fuck his wife and her lover had unleashed on him.

"Just not in the club... but I did give him head. I thought you might like a taste of what I was getting up to.”

“Oh god. I knew it,” he muttered, heat rushing to his face. “I didn't want to believe it but I tasted it on your lips.”

Claire stepped closer to him, brushing his jaw with her fingers. “No you tasted him on your lips.”

His voice cracked. “And you’ve been with him before?”

Jordan answered this time, matter-of-fact. “Just the once. Well I say once. At mine a couple of weeks ago. The three of us had a lot of fun that night. Claire didn’t need convincing and as you know she can be a very accommodating lady, for the right people of course.”

“She was hungry,” Michael added, looking right at Elliot. “Her pussy was wet for us that night.”

Elliot flinched the last vestiges of his male ego urging him to leap to his wife's defense but Claire disarmed him with a single smile, not at all ashamed. “He’s not wrong.”

The elevator pinged and the doors opened as the three entered, Elliot hanging back momentarily. Jordan pressed the button and held the door.

Claire turned back to Elliot. “What do you think you're doing mister? You're coming up with us.”

He hesitated. “But I thought you would just want to go and..." he left the sentence hanging. "You want me to come with you?”

Her eyes narrowed just slightly, as though she already knew the answer he hadn’t admitted to himself.

“Of course I do Elliot. You need to see it,” she said reaching out and kissing him tenderly. “You need to see me. What I'm becoming for you. From now on, no more shadows. You want to be a cuckold, Elliot. Then come and watch. Be my cuckold.” before adding "And I know you're hard just thinking about what these two are going to do to your wife." She rubbed the front of his pants and smiled as she confirmed the erection that she knew would greet her touch.

Claire grabbed Elliot by the lapels before dragging him into the elevator. Once they stepped inside her hand reached out and laced itself in Michael’s. Jordan casually circled Claire's waist and rested it on her hip. The doors slid closed sealing them in. Whatever tonight was going to be Elliot knew it would rewrite everything. And he was already trembling with the anticipation.

The short ride up to Jordan’s apartment was quiet, but not silent. Michael cracked a joke that Elliot didn't quite catch. Claire laughed out loudly and Jordan added something under his breath that made her smirk and bite her lip.

The doors opened with a ping and they all stepped out at Jordan's floor and made their way down the corridor towards his apartment. The three walking together as Elliot followed behind, a step slower, his palms sweating.

“You can sit and watch,” Jordan said turning back to address Elliot. “But don’t interrupt. This is about her now. Not you.”

Claire looked over her shoulder, voice teasing and firm. “And if I look at you I want to see gratitude. Not jealousy. Understand?”

Elliot could only nod dumbly as he followed them in an almost trance-like state of arousal, angst and tension.

Jordan’s apartment was warm, dimly lit and comfortable. Tidy but lived in, the way a space becomes when it’s been used for pleasure more than practicality. The couch, the bar, the music playing low from hidden speakers it all felt curated like a space designed to lure in unsuspecting women. It was comfortable and modern but to Elliot it screamed Bachelor pad, and although Elliot had been here before, knowing what he was likely to witness, the space had a more imposing aura than on his previous visit. This was Jordan's arena and he was merely a spectator within it.

“Why don’t you be useful and make us something to drink?” Jordan said motioning toward the bar cart by the wall. It wasn’t a suggestion. “We’ll get comfortable while you do that. I'll have a bourbon.” he commanded slipping out of his jacket and tossing it carelessly over the arm of the couch. "Me too," added Michael as he sat down next to Claire and stretched like he owned the place, one hand already brushing her bare thigh.

Elliot moved automatically toward the small open kitchen, his throat dry.

“Claire,” he asked, trying to keep his voice even. “What would you like?”

She turned her head just slightly, her eyes meeting his like he was a stranger in the room. “I'll have what they’re having,” she said. “I trust them.”

Elliot set out the four glasses, hands shaking as he poured bourbon over ice. Behind him, he could hear the growing sound of bodies shifting, laughter deepening into groans, clothes rustling.

When he turned around, Claire was already in Michael’s lap, her dress bunched up around her hips. Jordan sat beside them, his hand gripping her jaw, guiding her mouth to his. She kissed him like a lover, like someone she belonged to. Michael’s hand slid up her thigh as he whispered something in her ear that made her moan.

“Drinks,” Elliot said, setting them down on the coffee table, unsure where to stand. Jordan took his without looking at him. Claire accepted hers with a murmured “thank you, baby,” her voice sultry and laced with teasing affection as if she knew exactly how much this moment was breaking him apart.

She took a sip, then set the glass down.

Claire glanced at him then with her cheeks flushed and radiant her lips parted. “Take a seat. This is your show, remember?” she said softly. “You don’t want to miss this.”

He obeyed, sinking into the armchair across from them. The distance wasn’t far, but it felt cavernous and unbridgeable.

Jordan leaned back, tugging at the strap of Claire’s dress. “You going to be good for us, baby?”

Claire smiled wickedly. “I'll be good for you Daddy.”

Claire sat back on the sofa between them and spread her legs. Jordan pulled up her skirt and ripped her pantyhose wide open at the crotch. Michael chuckled low in his chest as he felt her sex. “She’s already wet.”

“She always is,” Jordan murmured, eyes never leaving hers.

“I’m ready,” she said, her gaze fixed on Michael now.

Jordan leaned back, letting her shift fully toward the other man. Michael didn’t hesitate. His mouth was on her neck, his hands bold and unapologetic as they explored her body. Claire melted beneath him, sighing, legs parting even further. Claire moaned as Michael pulled down the straps of her dress. Her breasts spilled free, flushed and heavy. Michael’s mouth closed over one, his other hand already sliding beneath the hem of her dress and working her dripping cunt.

She gasped, then laughed throaty and unguarded. Claire's hand fumbled Michael's zip in a vain attempt to release his cock. In the end she made do with just rubbing her hand over his growing bulge.

“Fuck… he’s so much bigger than you,” she called out to Elliot, her voice airy and cruelly sweet. “You already knew that though, didn’t you?”

Elliot could only nod, breath caught somewhere in his chest.

Jordan stood now, stepping behind the couch. His hands found Claire’s shoulders, massaging, steadying her as she arched away from Michael’s mouth. Then Jordan leaned down and kissed her deeply and hungrily while the other man devoured her exposed tits, playfully nibbling on each nipple.

“You look good like this,” Jordan murmured against her lips. “Like you were made to be shared.”

Claire turned her head toward Elliot looking like a vision with her lipstick smeared and eyes half-lidded and glittering.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” she said softly. “To see me ruined by men who aren’t you? To see what you gave away?”

Elliot’s chest ached but his cock throbbed.

“Yes,” he whispered. “God, yes.”

Michael pulled her onto his lap, her legs straddling him now, her back arched as she rocked against the bulge beneath his jeans. Jordan knelt behind her on the couch, lifting her dress up around her waist, exposing the flushed skin of her thighs and the slickness between them.

“Look at her,” Jordan said, turning to Elliot. “You ever seen her like this?” as he ran a finger up her exposed slit.

Claire moaned as Michael’s fingers continued to slide inside her and work her clitoris.

“Oh god, I love it,” she said breathlessly. “Being taken like this.”

Elliot leaned forward now, one hand gripping the edge of the chair so hard his knuckles whitened. The other hovered over his lap, unsure if he was even allowed to touch himself.

Claire looked at him, amused.

“Not yet,” she said. “You don’t get to come just because your wife is being fucked by real men.”

Jordan met Elliot’s eyes with a smirk. “You’ll wait until she tells you. Until she lets you.”

Elliot nodded, his entire body shaking. He was unraveling now. Humiliated, helpless and he had never felt more alive.

Claire turned back to the men.

“Take me,” she whispered. “Both of you.”

And then without ceremony and without shame Claire was undressed by the two men in front of her husband. Her body open, beautiful and powerful yet vulnerable. Her eyes met Elliot’s for a heartbeat and she grinned.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” she asked, arching her back as Michael’s mouth descended between her thighs. “To see me like this. Taken and owned.”

Jordan moved behind her, stroking her back, guiding her movements. “...And believe me,” he said, “by the time we're finished with her and delivered her back to you, your wife will have been used and spent.”

Elliot couldn’t speak. His erection strained against his trousers. His shame felt hot and thick, like syrup in his veins but so to did his arousal. His mouth was dry. His hands trembled in his lap. He wanted for all the world to release his cock from his pants and relieve himself but the shame of doing so in front of these two men that were so masterfully seducing his wife and fear of again being denied by his wife left him witnessing the scene in frozen silence.

Michael groaned against Claire’s skin from where he was crouched between her legs, and she cried out in pleasure as his mouth worked on her clit. Not performance. Real.

“I used to be your faithful baby,” she said between gasps, not even looking at Elliot now. “But now I’m theirs. Just like you wanted.”

Jordan eased Claire to her feet and slid into her from behind as Claire threw her head back in a moan that broke something in Elliot.

“She’s tighter than you remembered?” Michael asked Jordan.

“Tighter than I expected,” Jordan replied with a grunt, gripping Claire’s hips. "But we can soon remedy that." he continued as he started thrusting into her with greater urgency.

Claire moaned breathlessly, her back arching as Jordan continued his onslaught on her pussy from behind. Michael had got to his feet and released his cock. It bobbed in front of Claire's face, pulsing with Michael's heartbeat. It curved downwards along it's length, black and daunting and to Elliot's eyes impossibly large. He feared for his wife and wondered how she had even got it into her mouth let alone how it would stretch out her pussy. With little coaxing from Michael he invited Claire to take it in her hands. She explored it's length and her eyes grew wide as for the second time that evening she stretched her mouth wide and began feeding his shaft down her throat, flicking her gaze briefly to her husband in the chair as her eyes began to water and she worked him with her tongue and mouth. Drool spilled from her chin and as she pushed it further down her throat. The guttural sounds it forced from her formed an obscene rhythm until she began to gag. She pulled her head clear of it briefly, her make-up running and slobber hanging in streams from her ruined lips to the tip of the monster cock in her hand. “Hope you’re enjoying the show,” she purred. “You gave up your place inside me, Elliot. This is what that looks like.”

And he was enjoying the show. God help him, he was.

He watched his wife get taken by one man, then the other, and sometimes both at once. They didn’t make room for him. They didn’t ask if he was okay. The sexual onslaught from the two studs was relentless but Claire didn’t soften. The more physical they got with her the more she urged them on. She screamed in ecstasy as they forced orgasm after orgasm out of her. His wife surrendered to them completely. Her moans filling the room, her body bucking and writhing between them. Her eyes glazed over and Elliot did not even recognize Claire as his wife any longer. They had reduced her to something primal lost in a sexual frenzy.

And Elliot sat frozen and lost in exquisite torment, helpless to stop it yet helpless to look away.

[Guhunkadorn]

Superb story!

Thank you.

[chastity_boi]

Part 43: New Rules

Elliot woke on Jordan’s couch, disoriented. His body ached from the awkward position he’d curled into, one arm half-numb from having been tucked beneath him all night and a cricked neck. For a long moment he didn’t know where he was. The couch was unfamiliar. The dim light filtering in through the blinds was not what he was used to and Claire was not next to him. And then the events of the previous night hit him like a sledgehammer.

Claire with Jordan and Michael, and he just watched as they fucked her. Except they didn't just fuck her. They owned her. They dismantled her sexually and then when she had been deconstructed in front of the man who she had shared marriage vows with she was transformed. Reinvented as sexual creature that seemed so far out of Elliot's reach, bearing no resemblance to the wife he knew so intimately.

The memories returned slowly, each one like a fresh nail hammered into the coffin of his masculinity and male ego: Claire on her knees between the two men. Her moans wild and uninhibited. The way she’d looked at him, no through him, while they used her. The animalistic and unfamiliar sounds the two men evoked from the woman he loved. The things she’d said as she was elevated into a high of ecstasy previously unknown. The things they’d made her say. In some ways that had felt like the biggest betrayal. It had hurt the most but it also thrilled Elliot to his core.

At some points it had seemed liked she had been so lost in a sexual fervor that she didn't remember that Elliot was even there or who he was. She had allowed herself to be led and guided by both men as they ravaged her.

“I’m not your wife tonight,” she had moaned, voice cracked and wild, spit and cum dripping down her chin. “I’m just their slut now, baby…”

Or the way Jordan had grinned, cupping her jaw while she choked on Michael’s cock, wiping tears from her cheeks like he was proud of breaking her. “Say what you are,” Jordan had growled. Claire had just smiled and whispered through ruined lips “I’ll be whatever you want me to be,” as another orgasm shuddered through her body. Elliot had flinched. The words had torn something open in him but it didn't stop there.

“This isn’t cheating,” she had whispered at one point while Jordan fucked her from behind, hand twisted in her hair. “This is what he wants. He’s never made me scream like this…”

And then Michael had whispered something in her ear and she’d nodded eagerly and turned to Elliot.

“He wants me to say it.”

“Say what?” Elliot asked as he felt himself drowning in his own fantasy.

“That I’m not yours anymore,” she panted, one hand on Michael’s chest, the other reaching back for Jordan. “I've never been fucked like this before and you will never come close to making me feel like this. I'm sorry baby but they've ruined me.”

He should’ve stopped it. He knew he should’ve but he didn’t, he couldn't. He was hard and part of him wanted to know just how far she would go. Ever since they had started this game it had been a continuous game of dare. Pushing the envelope a little further eah time which had ultimately led them here but still Elliot wanted to see if she would go further... and she went further.

He sat up slowly, a blanket falling from his shoulders. His mouth was dry, his shirt stuck to his back with a cold sheen of sweat. He rubbed his eyes, trying to collect himself but the ache wasn’t just physical. It ran deeper. He felt it in his chest and in his gut.

Somewhere behind a closed door, he could hear the low murmur of voices. A laugh that sounded like Jordan. The creak of bed springs. Surely they weren't still going? But the sound didn't continue and was replaced by indecipherable murmurs.

He thought back to how the evening's activities had ended, trying to recollect all he could. He had fallen asleep while his wife was being taken again and again. He recalled fixing more drinks for everyone during a short break as everyone tried to recover though even when their balls were emptied into his pretty wife they continued to keep Claire on a sexual plateau with their fingers and tongues. Eventually the fucking had resumed and Claire, who had not been allowed to come down from the orgasm induced stupor they had fucked her into had willingly allowed them to use her as they pleased. Claire had been half-limp in Jordan’s lap then, her body spent, but they hadn’t stopped. Elliot vaguely remembered Michael fucking Claire's pussy while Jordan took her ass as they made her beg them to cum in her. At that point, or soon after sleep had overcome Elliot like a drowning tide and as he slipped into unconsciousness part of him embraced the oblivion after all that had happened that night welcoming the darkness.

The bedroom door clicked open.

Claire emerged, barefoot and naked but clearly exhausted. Her hair was a tangled mess. Knotted and matted in places. Crusted with streaks of dried cum and sweat. Her skin was a canvas of confession, kissed with bruises and red marks, dark purple hickeys blemished her neck and chest. She looked radiant, feral, spent and alive and her face lit up when she saw Elliot.

“Hey,” she said softly, walking over. She bent down and kissed his forehead. “You stayed.”

Elliot nodded slowly. "I don't think I had much choice. I passed out at some point." He looked up at her, hesitant. “God… how are you even standing? It looked… intense.”

"It was. They were relentless." She chuckled, brushing a damp strand of hair from her face."I think part of it was bravado on their part. Competitive energy. A little bit of performance for each other. For you, too. Like they were trying to impress you. Or… maybe shame you. I’m honestly not sure where the line was. But I can honestly say I have never been fucked like that before."

Her voice softened, becoming more introspective. “After a while, it didn’t feel like me in there. It was like I’d left my body. I was just overcome with it all. I stopped thinking about how it looked, or even what it meant. By the end I don't think I was thinking about anything much other than my next orgasm. Does that scare you?” she asked.”

Elliot sat frozen, unsure how to respond for a moment. He swallowed hard. “A little maybe,” he admitted. “I think I’m still… trying to catch up.”

She wrapped her arms around him. For a second, the world stilled. No Jordan. No Michael. Just the familiar feel of her cheek against his. But when she pulled back, her smile had an edge to it, something proud and tender at once. “So,” she said quietly, brushing her fingers along his jaw, “how do you feel? After watching that? After seeing what they did to me?”

Elliot held her tight and breathed her scent in. Despite the familiarity it was tinged with the unfamiliar musk of the two men that had ravaged her through the night. Elliot’s throat tightened. He swallowed hard. “I… I don’t know.”

“Be honest,” she said, not unkindly. “Even if it’s ugly.”

He looked up at her. “It hurt,” he admitted. “Seeing them touch you like that. Use you. Hearing you moan for them. It gutted me. But...” his voice broke slightly, “I was also… I was aroused. More than I’ve ever been. I hated it and I loved it at the same time. I’m scared of what that means. I know I can never make you feel like they did, but you looked beautiful,” he said, his voice barely audible. “God help me, I couldn’t look away.”

Claire nodded, her fingers brushing a mark on her hip, half-smiling.

Elliot stared at the floor. “It hurt,” he whispered. “Watching them touch you. Use you. Hearing you beg them not to stop…”

He glanced up at her.

“You said things I’d never heard come out of your mouth. You called yourself a slut. You said you wanted to forget you had a husband. You told Michael you’d rather have his cock than go back to being just my wife.” His throat closed around the next words. “That destroyed me.”

Claire didn’t flinch. She nodded, eyes full of something like respect. “And yet?”

He looked down again. “And yet… I was hard the whole time. Sometimes I felt sick to my stomach but euphoric at the same time. I can't explain it really. Even when you said it was better than anything I could give you I felt like I could have cum right there without even touching myself.”

She leaned in, pressing her forehead to his. “That’s the truth,” she murmured.

“I don’t know what that makes me.”

She smiled. “It makes you honest.”

He shook his head. “But I didn’t protect you. I didn’t stop it. I let them do those things to you.”

“You didn’t have to,” Claire interrupted gently. “You gave me to them.”

Silence stretched.

“And I gave myself fully,” she added, brushing her fingers along his jaw. “They didn’t just take me. I offered myself up to them because you gave me permission and because part of me needed it. This isn’t just sex anymore. It’s something more and something real.”

He hesitated. “Do you still respect me?”

Her eyes didn’t waver. “Yes of course I do silly. But differently now. I see you more clearly. Not as the man who needs to control me… but the one strong enough to surrender to what I'm becoming. What we're becoming. That takes courage. That’s a rare kind of strength.”

“But I… I felt powerless. Like I'd lost you.”

“You were,” she said simply. “And that’s the point, isn’t it?” Claire leaned in and kissed him softly. “You haven’t lost me, Elliot. You gave me the freedom to explore something that I didn't even know was in me and something that I didn't know was in you either. That doesn't mean I love you less. I love you more. I'll always be yours but not just yours anymore I guess. And you’re not the man you used to be either.” Her voice softened again. “We’re changing. Evolving. We're just getting used to our new normal.”

He closed his eyes for a moment. “I’m afraid. That one day I’ll look at you and not recognize the woman I married.”

She cupped his cheek. “Maybe you won't or maybe you’ll see the version of me you never knew I could be. The version you helped unlock.”

The room was quiet except for their breathing.

“I love you,” Elliot whispered.

“I know and I love you too,” she replied, standing up and stretching slightly, her bare body unapologetically on display. “Don't worry babe. You're not going to lose me. I'm not going anywhere... except home. Come on let’s go.”

She reached for his hand, and after a second, he gave it.

Still trembling. Still terrified.

But more alive than he had ever been.

Claire quickly dressed and they returned to their apartment in silence. Elliot with his arm around his wife and Claire happy to be led home by her husband. When they got back to their bedroom Elliot undressed Claire. She stood naked in front of him, the physical result of her adultery still evident on her body. Elliot eased her back to sit on the bed and knelt before her.

"Thank you." he said and moved to his face between her legs. Claire went to stop him.

"Hang on babe, I haven't showered, it's a mess down there." Elliot gently moved her hand aside.

"That's okay. I want to. I need to feel close to you again." Claire gave a subtle nod before lying back on the bed. Her hand caressing Elliot's hair as he pushed his face into her sex and began cleaning her with his tongue.

"Careful," she said, "I'm a bit tender," Elliot adjusted and continued gently lapping his wife's used aching pussy. Reveling in his shame and the heavy scent of unfamiliar musk that surrounded him and overloaded his senses as he cleaned his wife not with hunger but with reverence. Claire let her head tilt back. Her breath catching as he lapped slowly, tasting not just her, but also the essence of the men who had wrecked her. Elliot continued his task, inhaling it all, swallowing it all. Not in humiliation but in devotion.

When she finally pulled away, he didn’t argue. She rose, kissed the top of his head and padded to the bathroom.

Claire showered while Elliot got up from kneeling on the floor. He walked out of the bedroom and sat numbly at the kitchen counter, listening to the water run. There were no apologies. No regrets. Just quiet.

Later still damp from the shower Claire walked back into the kitchen wrapped in a towel. Her hair was pinned messily atop her head, her skin glowing from the heat. She poured herself coffee and raised an eyebrow when she saw Elliot sitting unshowered and still wearing the same clothes from the night before.

“Poor baby,” she teased stirring cream into her mug before taking a seat across from him. “Rough night?” Elliot managed a tired smiled back at her. She sipped her coffee slowly then leaned back studying him. He looked tired and fragile somehow. Certainly more fragile than when they had left the apartment the night before like something had shifted or realigned within him. Not defeated, but undone.

“You look different,” she said. “Like something cracked open inside you. You OK?”

He said nothing but nodded.

“You did well,” she said, her voice low and even. “Last night and this morning.”

He swallowed. “I was scared,” he admitted.

Claire nodded. “Good. You should be.” A pause. “But I’m proud of you,” she added her voice warmer. “That’s not something I say lightly anymore.”

Elliot looked down, his throat tight. “I know things are changing,” he said.

Claire gave a quiet laugh. “Elliot… they’ve already changed.” Claire set down her mug. Her posture straightened slightly. “Listen,” she said. “I need to say something, and I need you to hear it completely.” He nodded. “Can I ask you something?” she said.

He nodded.

“When was the last time we had sex?”

The question landed like a gut punch.

Elliot blinked. “Together?” he asked, cautious.

Claire tilted her head, amused. “Is there another kind I should know about?”

He chuckled nervously. “I don’t know… a couple months ago? Maybe longer.”

“Was it good?”

He hesitated. “Compared to what you've had lately. It was... fine. I think I tried to make it good.”

“But it wasn’t memorable.”

“No.”

Claire nodded slowly. “Yeah. That’s about what I remember too.”

A pause.

“And when was the last time you jerked off?”

He flushed, glanced away. “a couple of days ago I guess.”

“What did you think about?” she asked, not accusing just curious.

He hesitated. “You.”

She raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

“You, but not like it used to be,” he continued. “You with someone else. Like... someone taking you. Using you. Watching you moan for them while I... watched.”

Claire smiled knowingly. “You didn’t imagine being inside me?”

“No.”

“Did you even imagine touching me?”

He shook his head. “It wasn’t about me. It was about you. Being... free. Being taken.”

She leaned back in her chair, processing.

“And when we got home this morning,” she said slowly, “when I sat on the edge of the bed, sore and stil dripping someone else’s cum… I was ready to let you fuck me. Not because I needed to,” she clarified. “But because I thought maybe you did. Maybe you needed to feel like you still had some small claim on me. That even after being used and ruined I could still be yours for a moment.”

Elliot’s breath hitched.

“But instead… you knelt. You dropped to your knees,” she continued. “And instead of taking anything… you gave.”

He nodded slowly.

Claire tilted her head.

“Why?”

He met her gaze, voice trembling. “Because it felt right.” he said.

Claire shook her head gently. “Try again.”

He swallowed. “Because I didn’t want to pretend you were mine. Not anymore. Not like that. I didn’t want to erase what happened to you or to us. I wanted to feel close to you again. But... on your terms. Not as a husband claiming a wife but as a man grateful to be allowed near you at all. Not someone entitled to you.”

Claire’s lips parted slightly, then closed again. She nodded once.

“You didn’t want to reclaim me,” she said softly. “You wanted to serve me? Worship me?”

“Yes,” Elliot said. “Exactly.”

A long silence settled between them. Her eyes narrowed slightly. Then she leaned forward again, slower now, more deliberate.

“Then let’s be clear, let’s stop pretending this is anything like it was. Because it’s not.” she said. “Whatever this was before, marriage, partnership, sex on holidays and anniversaries... that’s over.”

Elliot’s throat tightened.

“This is something else now. You offered me to another man, other men. You watched them take me. Own me and you didn’t stop it. You got hard. I'm guessing you almost came just from witnessing it.”

He flinched.

“I’m not judging,” she added. “I’m explaining. Because from this point forward, I’m not going to let you lie to yourself about what we are. Let’s stop pretending this is still something traditional or balanced because it’s not.”

He listened, heart pounding.

“You gave me away, Elliot. You didn’t lose me. You offered me up. You made that choice. You wanted to see what I looked like taken by other men. And now you’ve seen it. I let myself be devoured. Not just by Jordan or Michael. But by this part of me that I’ve always been scared of. And now? I can’t pretend anymore. I don’t want to. That version of me is gone. I don’t think I can put her back in the box.”

“I don’t want you to,” he whispered.

Claire studied him.

“Then you need to understand what you’re stepping into. No more pretending we’re equals in the same way we were before. That balance is gone. And I’m not giving it back.” she said, her voice soft, not cruel. “I still love you. You’re still my husband. But you gave me away. And that means things shift.”

Elliot didn’t speak.

“You don’t get to decide when I see Jordan. Or Michael. Or whoever comes next. You don’t get to question where I go or who I go with. You don’t get to ask me to wear your ring. You don’t get to dictate what happens in that bedroom anymore. Not unless you’re invited. And you won’t always be.”

He nodded slowly.

Her hand drifted to his cheek. “But you do get to serve me. You get to be here. You get to witness who I become.”

She stepped back slightly, giving him space to absorb it.

“If you ever want to stop, I’ll stop. You can say so. But if you stay…” She tilted her head. “Then I need you to understand what you’re agreeing to.”

He looked up at her, eyes red-rimmed but clear. “I do.”

She smiled, walked behind him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind, resting her chin near his ear.

“You said you wanted me to be free. To be used. You wanted to feel the humiliation. You wanted to feel small. That ache of knowing you’re not enough.”

She leaned down near his ear. “So tell me. How did it feel? Watching Jordan stretch me open? Watching Michael make me scream like you never could?”

He trembled. “It hurt.”

“But?”

“It turned me on,” he whispered. “It made me hard,” he admitted. “I wanted to hate it. But I couldn’t. I… loved it.”

Claire smiled her breath hot against his skin.

“There it is,” she said softly. “That’s the thing you’ve been chasing this whole time. Do you feel small now lover?”

"Yes." It was all Elliot could do to answer.

“I want things too, Elliot. You'll find out what they are in time, but just be prepared. I want to explore my limits... and yours too.”

He looked up at her.

“Do you still want to be mine?”

“Yes.”

“Good boy,” she whispered.. “Good boy.”

She stepped around him, facing him again.

“You need to know something, Elliot. We’ll still be intimate but it won’t look the same. Not ever again.”

He looked up. “But… we’ll still have sex?”

“Sometimes,” she said simply. “But not when you want it. Not because you need it. Only when I decide it serves me or us. You don’t initiate anymore and you don’t assume access.”

He nodded slowly, absorbing it.

“You’ll earn what I give you,” she said. “Not because you deserve it. But because I choose to reward you and you'll be thankful for it too.”

He nodded again.

“No confusion?”

He swallowed hard. “No confusion.”

“Good,” she said. “Because that was your decision, remember? You wanted this. You dreamed of it. The shame. The surrender. Me fucked and ruined while you sat there watching.”

He nodded and closed his eyes, breathing hard.

“You don’t get to back out now.”

“I don’t want to,” he said. “I want this.”

Claire stepped close again, kissing his cheek softly and turned to leave. Halfway down the hall, she paused.

“You know,” she said, glancing back, “I was going to let you fuck me this morning.”

He froze.

“But when you dropped to your knees and licked me clean instead?” She smiled. “That was better.”

She turned again, disappearing into the bedroom.

The message was clear. There would be no reclamation and no going back.

And Elliot? He sat there in silence, his cock aching but his soul full because this, finally, was love on her terms and that was all he’d ever truly wanted. But now everything had changed.

[Guhunkadorn]

The potential for MAX cuckolding here is sky high....love it.

[chastity_boi]

Part 44: The New Normal

Within weeks, Claire had seamlessly woven her new lifestyle into their daily routine. In the first week Jordan stayed over twice without prior discussion. Claire didn't ask for permission she simply announced it to Elliot during the day almost in passing that Jordan would be coming over to fuck her some time after dinner.

That first evening started like any other with Claire and Elliot sharing a quiet dinner. The atmosphere was charged with an unspoken tension, a mix of anticipation and trepidation. Elliot knew what was coming, they both did, but Claire didn’t even acknowledge the fact. She poured them both wine, made easy conversation, even touched Elliot’s hand gently across the table as they ate and spoke about their day.

As they finished up their food Claire finally acknowledged the white elephant in the room that had hung over Elliot for the whole day. "You know that Jordan’s coming over tonight," she said suddenly, as if it were just another item on a to-do list. Elliot nodded in acceptance. “He’ll be staying.” she added with a coy smile.

He blinked. “Staying the night?”

Claire just smiled. “Of course. He should be here any time soon. I just wanted to let you know so you didn’t get your hopes up thinking there would be anything else happening between us later.”

Elliot sat nursing his wineglass like a man condemned when the the doorbell rang. Claire rose, radiant and relaxed, smoothing her dress as she sauntered to the door. "That’ll be him."

She opened it, and Jordan stepped in like he owned the place. Assured, imposing and effortlessly magnetic. It seemed to Elliot like Jordan had a new confidence and swagger since he and his friend Michael had dominated Claire together as Elliot had watched on helpless to intervene, complicit in her adultery.

Jordan's eyes locked on Claire. The kiss they shared was primal and unapologetic. It left Claire flushed and breathless.

He looked over her shoulder at Elliot, standing awkwardly by the dining table.

"Evening, Elliot," he said casually, voice smooth and low. "Hope you don’t mind if I help myself to your wife."

Elliot shook his head, his mouth dry. "Of course not," he managed to offer meekly.

Claire laughed softly, glancing back at her husband. "We’re going to the bedroom. You can finish your wine. We'll let you know when you can join us."

Elliot watched them go to the master bedroom, his heart aching with a mixture of desire and humiliation. He sipped his wine, the rich liquid doing little to ease the tension in his body. He knew what was coming, and the knowledge both thrilled and terrified him. From down the hall the bedroom door closed with finality.

As he sat alone in the living room, the sounds of Claire and Jordan's lovemaking filtered through the walls, a symphony of pleasure and possession. Subtle at first then unmistakable. First the creaking of the bed. Claire’s soft moans followed blooming into full-throated cries. Elliot gripped the stem of his glass and sat motionless, head spinning. His mind raced with images of what they were doing, his body responding despite his best efforts to remain detached. Each gasp from Claire twisted something deeper in him. The cadence of her increasingly urgent moans. The way it pitched upward, broke and begged for release. It was like listening to a language he’d never known she could speak. She wasn't just being taken. She was giving herself away to a man Elliot now feared she might have some feelings for beyond sex, at least on some level. From the sounds she was making it was clear that Jordan was taking Claire to a place where Elliot could never follow.

After what felt like hours the bedroom door opened. Claire emerged barefoot, glowing and naked. Her hair was a mess, her chest rising and falling, her crotch was slick from her own secretions and Jordan's.

“Elliot,” she said gently. “You can come watch now. But no touching. If you need to relieve yourself you know where the guest room is.” Elliot felt like a young boy being scolded after being caught fiddling with himself.

He followed her silently into the room his body taut with nerves. Jordan lounged against the headboard looking at home in the Elliot's marital bed as he reclined naked and unashamed having just fucked Claire and marked his territory. Claire slipped back onto the bed beside him, her bare skin gleaming in the low light.

“Round two,” she purred.

Elliot sat in the chair in the corner. Jordan looked over at him with casual amusement.

“Hey Elliot,” he said, stroking Claire’s thigh. “I love fucking your wife. She’s something else. I could get used to this.”

Claire turned to face Jordan, her voice playful. “Be nice. He’s trying.”

“Trying to keep it together,” Jordan said, chuckling. “You see the tent in his pants?”

Claire looked back, smirking. “Poor thing. I already told him if he can't control himself he’ll have to go take care of that little thing in the guest room like a good little boy.”

Elliot almost died as he sat in the corner watching Jordan staking a claim over his wife as he explored Claire's body without apology. Claire responded to his touch and reciprocated, seeking out his proud erection and running her hand along it's length, barely able to circle it's girth with her delicate fingers. Elliot couldn't help but recall how much smaller his own cock looked thinking back to the increasingly rare times when Claire allowed him some relief which in recent weeks had been almost exclusively with her hand or more often his own. His face flushed with embarrassment but he couldn't look away. Jordan's hands roamed over Claire's curves, his fingers tracing patterns that made her arch against him. He kissed Claire's neck before positioning her on all fours facing away from Elliot, deliberately spitting into her ass and running two fingers up along the length of her crack, his voice dropping. "You ever taken her ass, Elliot?” He spoke as if Claire was not even in the room.

Elliot’s throat closed. He couldn’t speak, just shook his head. Claire giggled.

“No,” she answered for him, breath hitching. “He never asked and I never offered.”

Jordan reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a bottle of lube.

“Well,” he said, snapping the cap open, “that’s going to change. I guess you won't mind if I do then?” Jordan pushed the bottle into Claire's anus and squeezed. the excess oozed from her puckered asshole obscenely as he removed it rubbing some over the bulbous head of his angry cock as he maneuvered himself into position with a hungry look.

Elliot sat frozen as Jordan began the slow, methodical process of claiming his wife in a way no one else ever had. The room filled with the slick, obscene sounds of preparation. Jordan took his time savoring the task at hand. He whispered something into Claire’s ear. Her mouth parted as she nodded and whimpered as she arched her back and whispered her consent. Her body trembling slightly not with fear but anticipation. She looked back at Elliot with eyes wide almost daring him to object.

He didn’t. “If you let him take this hole it'll be just for him now. I promise. Never for you babe. I'm sorry.” She said.

And then he began. Elliot did nothing.

The room fell almost silent as Jordan began to feed the head of his cock between Claire's ass cheeks, slick, slow and deliberate. Claire gasped as her puckered hole at first resisted the intrusion but then moaned and buried her face into the pillow as the glands of Jordan's penis broke through her resistance. Jordan pushed into her slowly as Claire gasped, the sound high and raw. Jordan paused, letting Claire recover her breathe and adjust to his girth stretching her anus, then kept going. The bed creaked and her fingers clawed the sheets. Jordan was patient but firm as Claire grew accustomed to the new sensations that were coursing through her and Elliot watched as his wife give herself over completely to her lover.

"Good girl," Jordan murmured. "That’s it. Take it all." He began to slowly push himself further into Claire slowly. Claire taking another moment to recover as she grew accustomed to her lover as he claimed her inch by inch.

Elliot was shaking. His erection was painful now, twitching against the inside of his pants. Claire looked at him, panting, eyes hazy with submission.

“You okay, babe?” Claire said, panting between moans. “You look like you’re about to cry.” The fact Claire was making direct eye contact as she spoke to him while Jordan was ploughing her ass thrilled him to his core. He knew he should be appalled but his body and mind betrayed him.

Jordan laughed. “He’s watching a real man take what he never even dared ask for. Fucking priceless.”

Claire pushed back into him. “And I’m giving it. Willingly.”

Jordan pushed deeper. Claire cried out. But it wasn’t pain. It was need. "I know how to satisfy you in ways he never could."

"Oh god yes." was all Claire could say in response.

“You really haven't ever fucked her ass have you?” Jordan said, gripping her hips. He thrust harder. Claire screamed. Jordan grinned. “Damn, Elliot. You’re more turned on than I am. And I’m the one fucking her.”

Elliot didn’t answer. He couldn’t but his body responded, his cock impossibly hard twitched inside his boxers uncontrollably despite his efforts to control himself. He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help but imagine himself in Jordan's place, feeling Claire's soft skin beneath his fingers, hearing her gasps of pleasure in his ear. Imagining what it would be like to take his wife like Jordan was right now, but he knew he had given up that right when he asked Claire to make a cuckold of him. His breathing was ragged and his emotions in turmoil from everything he was witnessing.

Jordan continued his assault. Slow at first. Deep and purposeful. The kind of motion that wasn’t about pleasure anymore it was about imposing himself onto her.

“You feel that baby girl?” Jordan growled. “That’s mine now.”

"Yes daddy," was all Claire could respond with.

Elliot’s hands were clenched into fists. He felt his heart break as his cock throbbed painfully in his pants and his entire body trembled.

As Jordan's movements became more urgent Elliot's own need grew more intense. He knew he was playing with fire, but he couldn't bring himself to leave. Not yet. He had to bear witness to this latest conquest for Jordan and submission from Claire and humiliation for himself.

As Jordan's thrusts grew deeper and more insistent Elliot's resolve crumbled. He knew he couldn't take much more without giving in to his own desires. His cock felt like it was on a hair trigger. Even the fabric of his boxers threatened to tip him over the edge. Whilst this stud was pleasuring his wife in ways he had never come close to, he was almost cumming in his pants having not even touched himself. Elliot's shame and panic intermingled with the thrill of humiliation as Jordan dispensed with any tenderness and rode Claire like a cowboy at a rodeo breaking in a bucking colt. The sounds from his wife were reduced to incoherent grunts and moans as she grew accustomed to her younger bull's anal onslaught.

Jordan laughed, thrusting harder now with his full length. “Looks like your wife is a bit of an anal slut. You enjoying the show cuckboy?" It was almost too much for Elliot to bear.

"I'm just going to go next door. I-I need to... " Elliot made his excuses.

"Yeah, you better go before you make a mess and embarrass yourself in front of your lady.” Jordan called after him.

Claire looked over her shoulder. “Go ahead, Elliot. You have my permission,” she said her voice soft and cruel. “You go sort yourself out my love. We’ll be busy... with the grown-up stuff.”

Elliot stood on unsteady legs and stumbled towards the door. With a final, shameful glance at the couple on the bed, Elliot turned to leave, his body aching with unfulfilled need. As he closed the door behind him with shaking hands he heard Claire reach a gasping climax.

He almost ran to the guest bedroom collapsed onto the bed, and undid his pants. The sound of Jordan's and Claire's lovemaking filled his ears as he lightly rubbed his needy prick to the edge within a few meagre strokes. He calmed himself before he begun pumping himself again with desperation unable to control his lust any longer. He could hear Claire's moans, her pleas for more, and it only served to heighten his own shame and desire.

He came in seconds with a hurried and desperate orgasm. The sound of Claire’s cries still echoing in his ears.

"Harder Jordan," Claire cried out. "Please harder!"

Elliot's body convulsed with the force of his release, his mind a whirlwind of shame and satisfaction. As he came he imagined Claire's face, flushed and beautiful, as Jordan brought her to heights of pleasure Elliot could never hope to match.

In the aftermath, as he lay there catching his breath, Elliot was overcome with the enormity of how far he had fallen. He was a cuckold, a wanker, humiliated and used for his wife's pleasure. And yet, he couldn't deny the thrill of it, the dark allure of his own degradation.

What must Claire think of him? He wondered, his heart heavy with shame. Did she pity him? Despise him? Or was he just a convenient tool for her pleasure, a pathetic figure to contrast with Jordan's prowess?

As the sounds of Claire's pleasure reached a crescendo, Elliot knew he had crossed a line, a point of no return. And as he drifted into a fitful sleep, he couldn't help but wonder what the future held, and whether he was strong enough to handle the reality of his fantasies.

As he drifted into a fitful sleep the enormity of what he had given away and of what he’d been reduced to washed over him. Yet still he wanted more. It still wasn't enough.

Over the following weeks, despite the obvious increase in Jordan’s presence in their home, it was the subtler changes that unsettled Elliot the most. An almost imperceptible shift in the relationship dynamic with Claire which whilst not obvious was apparent to him. Nothing overt or dramatic but in the spaces between gestures and glances Elliot could feel it. He was becoming something else. Less of her husband and certainly no longer her equal.

One afternoon after an impromptu session with Jordan, Claire emerged from the master bedroom wearing nothing but a faint sheen of sweat and satisfaction before handing Elliot a bundle of laundry. A pair of her cum stained panties and bra sat on top of the soiled bedding still damp and mingled with their scent.

“They're a little... messy,” she said. “Things got a little heated and I want fresh sheets for tomorrow.”

Elliot took the bundle without question headed to the utility room and loaded up the washer. In those first few weeks Claire had certainly been asking more of Elliot he reflected. Generally chores were equally split between the pair of them and they both were decent cooks, but Claire had very subtly been assigning specific tasks to him. Domestic duties that had once been mutual suddenly felt delegated. Whether it was tidying the master bedroom before Jordan arrived, fixing drinks for everyone or washing the bed linen after nights she spent moaning under another man, the imbalance was deliberate. Claire never said so but Elliot felt it. These weren’t just chores. They were reminders of Elliot's new position within the emerging hierarchy.

But it was the teasing that really cut deepest. Once their play had been confined to the bedroom but increasingly teasing and humiliating comments from Claire had begun to bleed into their regular lives and had grown sharper and more cutting. On more than one occasion Elliot had panicked in case someone in public had overhead one of Claire's mocking or revealing asides.

She teased him constantly now, her touches and words designed to arouse and unman him all at once.

She frequently wandered the apartment in only a silk robe that parted slightly as she moved, breasts swaying beneath the thin fabric. Sometimes she’d lean across the counter in front of him, the curve of her ass framed perfectly by tiny shorts she sometimes wore around the house. Knickers were frequently flashed and many times she strutted around naked or occasionally in lingerie. During these times her hands constantly sought out Elliot's bulge or she would press her foot into his crotch under the table mid-breakfast, never breaking eye contact as she sipped her coffee. The teasing was almost constant as she stimulated him both body and mind but never to the extent that she did for Jordan. Whereas previously they may have retired to the bedroom or even fooled around where they were now it was never more a painful reminder of what he could have had before he chose his path. She always stopped short and always left him wanting. It was maddening.

Jordan became more comfortable when he was at their place and increasingly used it like his own often with Elliot playing host, fetching drinks and snacks for the lovers as they curled up on the couch. All of their interactions were becoming more familiar. Little touches and looks shared between them, much like Elliot had shared with Claire in the early days of their relationship he remembered with a burning sense of loss and a sickening thrill. Claire kissed Jordan in front of Elliot now as if this was the new normal and increasingly that was becoming the case. Lingering, long, wet and familiar kisses, possessive and intimate, and when she broke them she'd shoot Elliot a sly smile.

“I used to kiss you like that, didn’t I?” she said once, glancing at Elliot over Jordan’s shoulder. There was no malice in her voice, just amusement and curiosity. That almost hurt more. Elliot could only agree.

Once, as Jordan lounged shirtless on the couch, Claire came out of the bedroom wearing just an old T shirt. Her nipples pressed against the fabric as she straddled Jordan’s lap and whispered something in his ear.

Jordan groaned and grabbed her hips.

“Not yet,” she giggled, pulling away just before he could do more. “Dinner first.”

She looked at Elliot and winked.

“Can you set the table?”

Elliot nodded, hard as stone as he set about his task.

She was keeping him on edge. Purposefully.

When Jordan wanted her, he got her instantly and without question. Whether in the kitchen, the hallway, the couch. No ceremony and no denial. Sometimes Elliot was allowed to watch. Other times he would be dismissed to the guest room.

But Elliot? He was made to wait or watch and increasingly to serve.

She’d tease him constantly one time coming out of the bedroom flushed and glowing, wearing nothing and freshly fucked.

“Mmm,” she murmured. “He wore me out. My legs are still shaking but he left kind of a mess down there. Would you mind baby?” Claire followed the question with a look down towards her well used cunt leaving no question as to what she expected. Denied and horny Elliot happily dropped to his knees in front of his wife as she parted her legs and began licking her clean as Claire cradled his head, whispering praise and mockery in equal measure.

“Good boy,” she whispered as she stepped away once he'd completed the task. “You’ll get your turn again... someday.”

another morning, she called Elliot into the bedroom.

Jordan was sprawled on the bed, shirtless, his arm draped over the pillow she once shared with Elliot.

Claire stood by the dresser, naked except for a towel wrapped around her torso and a satisfied smirk.

“From now on,” she said, “you’ll knock before entering this room unless we're on our own. It’s not yours anymore. It’s ours. Mine and Jordan’s.”

Elliot nodded.

“If you burst in here uninvited and I’m not dressed… if you see something you shouldn’t?” She stepped close, her voice dropping to a purr. “That’s a punishment. You know why.”

“Because I gave up those rights?” he asked quietly.

She smiled and cupped his chin. “Correct. You ok with that?”

He trembled. “Yes, Claire.”

She kissed his forehead like a mother praising a child.

“Good boy.”

She turned back to Jordan and let her towel drop. "you can go now baby." she said as she returned to the marital bed and her smirking boyfriend.

He stood there for a long time cock aching and heart hammering before he stepped out, the door clicking shut behind him, his pulse thundering.

Every part of him hurt. Every part of him throbbed.

And he had never felt more owned.

Later that week Elliot's firm were holding one of their regular work events. Nothing major, just a casual after-work drinks event at a downtown bar meant to bring remote employees together for face time and team bonding. Claire brought it up casually over dinner, “We should bring Jordan to your work’s drinks on Thursday after all it is our regular date night so if you want me to go with you Jordan should come too. You’re always saying what a forward thinking company it is. Let’s test that, hmm?”

Elliot's hesitated and his blood ran cold, but Claire smiled sweetly and added, “You'll just introduce him as a friend. Nothing scandalous but we’ll know better, won’t we? I promise we won't do anything to embarrass you.”

Elliot tied himself in knots for the days leading up to that Thursday night when he found himself stood by the bar at a downtown venue, surrounded by his work colleagues and boss, watching Claire and Jordan from across the room. Jordan exuded easy charisma, shaking hands, cracking jokes. Claire was poised and radiant, subtly leaning into Jordan when no one was watching closely, though Elliot always was.

When he introduced Jordan to his team he was gracious and charming. Claire played her role of the doting and supportive wife to perfection spending time with both his colleagues and his boss.

Elliot was sure there was going to be a humiliating twist to the night but to his eternal relief it never came. Both Claire and Jordan were impeccable.

Back home however things changed and the illusion of restraint shattered. Claire led Jordan into the bedroom as Elliot followed silently, an inevitable heaviness blooming in his chest.

“In here,” Claire said softly, opening the door. “Tonight you’ll watch on your knees on the floor. You can touch yourself but don't you dare cum and no speaking! but first I want you to strip. Got it?”

Elliot nodded and obeyed. He shed his clothes, the air cool against his skin as he knelt at the side of the bed his erection already straining with need as Jordan undressed Claire with a reverence and certainty that once belonged to him.

She responded to every touch but maintained eye contact with Elliot throughout. Jordan touched her like someone who knew every secret she had yet to speak aloud.

Their movements were fluid and natural as Claire moaned in response to Jordan's touch. She lay underneath as Jordan entered her and began working himself within her in a steady rhythm.

Her head hung back over the edge of the bed as she once again made eye contact with her husband. Elliot continued to rub his penis with his hand as she looked straight at him like she was searching for something within him. As waves of pleasure built from within her lips parted leaving her body writhing beneath Jordan's muscular frame.

“Thank you,” she said, breathless. “For giving me this.” Elliot's heart swelled, even as it cracked.

“I love you,” she whispered, tangled beneath him.

Elliot was about to respond in kind when Jordan replied instantly, “I love you too.”

The words struck Elliot like a blow. They didn’t pause. They didn’t falter. Their rhythm just continued, deepened and then intensified. Claire clawed at Jordan’s back. Jordan groaned her name. The sounds of their bodies colliding filled the room like a song Elliot had never known how to play.

And then Claire kissed him. Kissed Jordan with everything she had. breaking off only to say once again. "God I love you. Now fuck me."

Jordan continued with renewed vigor. The sounds of their love making filled the room.

Elliot could take no more. He stumbled to his feet and fled with tears in his eyes. He found his way to the guest bedroom, collapsed onto the bed and lay in the dark. The sound of the two lovers taunted him through the walls.

His body trembled with the aftershock. He tried in vain to sleep but memories from the past few weeks echoed in his skull. The image of Claire’s face racked with pleasure haunted him.

He touched himself tentatively at first and shamefully began stroking his cock to the sound of his wife and Jordan fucking. Flesh meeting flesh, their gasps turning to cries until finally he felt his orgasm rise through a myriad of conflicting emotions.

He wept softly into the pillow after, unsure if it was grief for what he had given away, or gratitude for what Claire had given him.

The next morning was quiet. Jordan was nowhere to be seen.

Claire moved through the kitchen like it was any other day, humming faintly as she stirred sugar into her coffee. Elliot sat at the table, barely able to look at her.

Finally, he spoke, voice hoarse. “Did you mean it? Last night... when you said you loved him. Was that the first time?”

Claire looked up, tilting her head slightly. Then she nodded, slowly.

“Yes,” she said. “And no.”

Elliot blinked. “What does that mean?”

Claire came to sit across from him, her robe cinched loose, a faint mark visible along her collarbone—undeniably Jordan’s.

“It was the first time we said it and meant it I think. But not the first time we felt it.”

The silence stretched between them.

“Was it... was it planned? To say it like that, in front of me?”

Claire smiled faintly, not cruel, but devastating. “No. But it did seem right. Would it have mattered if it was?”

Elliot swallowed. “It felt like you were trying to... hurt me.”

“No,” Claire said gently. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you, Elliot. But you asked me to show you the truth. The real cost of this fantasy. You wanted to see what it looked like to lose me.”

She leaned forward slightly. “Did you think this was just about me playing out your fantasies? That I was just something to share without consequence?”

“No,” he said quickly. “Never.”

“Then understand this,” she said, her voice tightening. “You asked for this Elliot. You knew this could happen. Jordan doesn’t just fuck me. He wants me. All of me. And I want him.”

Elliot looked down at the table, breath shallow.

“And you still want this don't you?”

He nodded.

Claire stood and circled the table. Her fingers trailed across his shoulders as she came to stand behind him.

“Then stop being such a little bitch and thank me,” she whispered.

“For what?”

“For making your fantasy real. For showing you what giving me up really looks like. I'm not just doing this for me or you Elliot. I'm doing this for us because this is what we both need now. So thank me.”

Elliot turned and looked up at her, his eyes wet.

“Thank you,” he said, the words trembling on his lips.

She leaned down and kissed his temple. “You’re welcome.”

That weekend, Claire made another announcement.

“Jordan and I have been talking,” she said over dinner. “About next steps.”

Elliot looked up, heart already racing.

“He’s going to spend more nights here,” Claire said. “Regularly. And we’re going to start sharing a calendar, the three of us.”

Elliot blinked. “A calendar?”

“Of course. It’s only fair you know which nights are his. When you’ll need to sleep elsewhere. Or make yourself scarce.”

She took a sip of wine. “We’re also going to look at rearranging the bedroom too. Jordan’s going to have a drawer. Maybe a key. Eventually, a closet. You may want to move some of your stuff into the guest room too for when Jordan's over.”

Elliot stared.

Claire smiled at him. “This is what full submission looks like, love. You said you wanted it. I'm just making your fantasy reality.”

His hands trembled.

She reached across, her fingers warm against his. “Don’t think of it as losing me. Think of it as watching me become what I was always meant to be. And knowing you made it possible.”

Elliot nodded slowly, heart breaking open.

And deeper inside something even darker was thrilled.

[Tnex]

Man I’d love to read more! Keep it up.

[shamed411bee]

Me too!!!

[alex7419]

Hi CB, I hope to read a new chapter soon, you're really a talented writer and the story is getting more and more interesting and exciting with each chapter.

[john jasson]

Very intense psychological account with well developed characters. The way Claire assumes dominance in the marriage but is simultaneously submissive to her lover is a scenario that strikes a chord with me.

Couple of continuity issues I fell over, but no matter. It's an excellent piece of work, and I look forward to reading more if our author is so inclined.