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Tuesday, 19 February 2013

Unfinished Femdom Cave Book Project - Part Three...

Charlotte’s phone rang for the third time that evening, this time she picked it up.
“Yes.”
“Charlotte?”
“Yes.”
“You sound…different.”
“What do you want Martin?”
“I…” having made so many calls and not getting an answer Martin was a little thrown when he heard her voice.
“I miss you,” he said finally.
“I miss you too,” she said matter of factly, trying to maintain her poise. “Or at least I miss the man I thought you were.”
There was a difficult pause.
“So…”
“So what Martin?”
“So, can we meet?”
“What for?”
“So, well, you know, I want to see you, I want to apologise for what I did and…”
“I see,” said Charlotte firmly. “It’s not going to change anything you know Martin.”
Martin fell silent, then after a long pause he said…
“So what’s going to happen now.”
“That’s very much up to you Martin.”
“Huh?”
“I will see you on Sunday evening at eight for dinner, we will discuss my terms then.”
“Ah, okay…”
“And Martin…”
“Yes Charl…”
“Don’t disappoint me.”
Charlotte hung up without another word and turned to see the proud smile of her friend, Jo who was sitting right there beside her.
“Perfect,” she said.
Charlotte didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, hearing Martin’s voice had been a difficult thing to deal with and she was more than a little surprised that she managed to keep her composure and deliver her lines with such confidence.
“Great,” said Jo. “So we’ve got nearly forty eight hours to get you ready!”
*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *
Later that night, Jo and Ian were lying in bed together, him still buzzing from bringing both of his Mistresses to orgasm, her still buzzing from both the pleasure of her own climaxes and the satisfaction of watching Charlotte’s gradual transformation into a dominant female.
“I think someone deserves a little attention,” announced Jo, sliding down the bed and slipping the key on her necklace into the padlock which secured Ian’s chastity device. Ian moaned softly as he felt the tube being pulled away and his cock quickly sprang to life, becoming hard as steel in seconds. Then he felt the retaining ring being removed and Jo’s soft, wet lips caressing the tip of his cock.
The evening having been what it was, Ian wasn’t able to enjoy the feeling of his wife’s wonderful tongue for too long before he realised that his orgasm was becoming dangerously imminent. He conveyed this information to Jo, but instead of releasing her grip on his cock she merely shifted herself so that she was between his legs and holding his cock upright with just her forefinger and thumb, began to flick the sensitive spot at the underside of the head with her tongue.
Ian realised what was about to happen and begged her to let him cum properly.
“Do you think it’s appropriate that you should be allowed to enjoy your orgasm when you still have the taste of another woman in your mouth and her scent in your nostrils?”
She didn’t have to say any more, Ian understood that for Jo this was about reclaiming her property and reminding him that she alone controlled his cock. She was happy to help Charlotte and for Ian to enjoy serving her, but at the end of the day it was her who decided if, when and how her husband was allowed to cum.
Ian fought gallantly against the impending discharge, wanting the sensation of his wife’s expert tongue to continue as long as possible, but he was inevitably fighting a losing battle. A couple of minutes passed before Ian grunted deeply and Jo pulled her head back and smiled to herself as she watched his cum ooze out of his cock and flow down the topside of his straining prick, forming a pool on his pulsing stomach. Ian moaned in frustration as his cock twitched, desperate for her fingers to pump him and give him the full orgasm he craved so badly.
But Jo was not about to change her mind. She watched intently until she was satisfied that Ian’s window for pleasure had passed and then gently licked the clean underside of his still hard cock. She loved ruining his orgasms, not only because it gave her a sense of power but because she loved the fact that his cock was still usable afterwards.
She gripped his shaft firmly in her fingers and within thirty seconds it was absolutely rock hard once more. She moved up his body and straddled him, her slick pussy lips trapping his cock between their bodies as she gently slid backwards and forwards, coating the underside of his aching tool with her juices.
“Do you want to be allowed inside me?” she asked quietly.
“Yes….please Mistress.”
“You know what you have to do then don’t you?”
“Yes Mistress.”
Jo scooped the cum from Ian’s stomach up on the end of her fingers and offered it to his mouth, without a moment of hesitation he sucked and licked her fingers clean and swallowed his cum, he was used to it now, though in the beginning he had found it difficult.
“Good,” whispered Jo as she rose up and reached for his cock. “You have pleased me, and now you will get your reward.”
Ian moaned in frustration as Jo expertly teased his cock with her pussy, rubbing the sensitive head against her silky smooth lips and then pulling away and using her fingers to coat his desperate, throbbing cock with her juices. After several minutes of this treatment, Jo relented and held his cock upright, her pussy positioned right over his straining shaft.
“Who controls your cock?”
“You do Mistress.”
“Who decides if, when and how you get to cum?”
“You do Mistress.”
“You love me don’t you, you worship me like no other woman alive don’t you?”
“Yes Mistress, please…”
“Please what?”
“Please let me cum inside you.”
As soon as the words left his lips Ian knew he had overstepped the mark. It was one thing for him to beg to be allowed inside her pussy, though even that was generally frowned upon, but to ask for permission to cum inside her was pushing his luck beyond Jo’s limits. She immediately let go of his cock and it sprang back against his stomach.
“Seems like someone has forgotten his place tonight,” she said enigmatically. “And I so wanted to feel your thick, hard cock inside me.”
Ian winced at his foolish mistake, but it was too late, he’d blown his chance and he knew it only too well.
“Looks like I’ll have to make do with something else.”
She slid off him and grabbed a soft velvet pouch from her nightstand. She upended it and extracted from it a clear glass dildo, heavily ridged and with a blue streak spiralling down the centre. Ian cursed under his breath, bringing a smile to his wife’s face.
“Get it wet for me,” she said, offering the tip of the dildo to Ian’s mouth.
He quickly opened his mouth and serviced as much of the dildo as he could with his tongue, leaving it coated with his saliva when she pulled it out.
“This could have been your poor desperate cock,” she reminded him as she straddled him, this time facing away and balancing the dildo on his chest with her hand before slowly sinking down onto it.
Ian’s jaw trembled slightly as he watched the beautiful sight of his wife’s pussy stretching around the slippery fake cock, why couldn’t he have kept his mouth shut, then it would have been his poor denied cock sliding into her hot, wet hole instead of the envied glass toy.
As she sank down all the way onto the dildo, Ian felt his wife’s fingertip gently stroking the underside of his cock, teasing him mercilessly as he was treated to the sight of her delicious asshole just inches from his face. As if that wasn’t bad enough Jo reached back between her legs and used her fingertip to tease her puckered hole before offering it to her husband to suck. She knew how much he lusted after her ass and this second-hand taste was sure to frustrate him more than denying him completely.
Once Ian had sucked the taste of her ass off her fingertip Jo grabbed the base of the dildo and slowly slid it out of her sodden cunt. Ian watched intently, fully expecting to be offered the dildo and to be allowed to taste his Mistress’s juices once more this evening, but it was not to be.
Instead Jo pulled herself upright and once again balanced the dildo on her husband’s lightly haired chest. Ian watched in helpless awe as his wife used one hand to pull her cheeks apart and directed the slippery, pussy juice coated glass cock to the entrance of her ass. Jo grunted as she felt the dildo push it’s way inside her and slowly eased herself down on the length of it until the base was pressed firmly against her cheeks. Then she leaned forward again and ran her tongue along the length of Ian’s poor neglected meat, while Ian stared up at the amazing sight above him.
After just a few seconds of this Jo turned herself around and presented her dripping wet cunt to his mouth.
“Lick me,” she ordered, sliding her slippery hole against Ian’s eager tongue.
Ian couldn’t quite believe what was happening, Jo wasn’t keen on anal at the best of times, although she wasn’t opposed to fucking his ass with a strap-on now and then, yet here she was with a dildo buried deep in her ass and riding his face for all she was worth. Ian looked up at her and saw her smiling down at him between her gorgeous tits.
“It’s so long since I allowed you inside my ass isn’t it, I bet you can hardly even remember what it felt like can you?”
Ian ground his tongue firmly against her aching clit, closing his eyes as he tried to remember that last time, so long ago.
“Who knows, maybe one day I’ll feel generous enough to let you slide your poor hard cock into my tight, warm ass again. Maybe I’ll wait until you’re right on the edge and then let you slam it into me, pumping your hot cum inside me, before I…”
Jo didn’t get any further as her orgasm peaked right then and she cried out, mashing her pussy against Ian’s tongue and chin as she bucked violently against his face. Exhausted she collapsed on top of him, kissing the top of his head and telling him over and over again how much she loved him. Eventually she slid down his body until her pussy was pressing down onto his cock, pressing it into his stomach, the glass dildo still buried deep in her ass.
“That was amazing,” she said. “And I’d love to let you inside me, but you know I can’t don’t you?”
“Yes Mistress.”
“Not after what you did. But still… you have been so helpful this week that I am going to allow you to cum.”
“Oh God, thank you Mistress…”
Jo grasped his semi-hard cock and within three or four strokes he was rock hard once more, anticipating his much needed release. Jo pushed her hand down between her legs for a moment and pushed a couple of fingers inside herself, coating them with her juices and then smearing them on Ian cock to help lubricate it.
“But you have to be quick, you only get fifty strokes, and you’ve already had six.”
Ian groaned realising that the longer her took to cum the greater the risk of her letting go just as he was coming.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes Mistress, please make me cum…”
Jo started counting as she grasped Ian’s cock once more and began a firm rhythm pump, increasing the tempo and intensity slightly with each stroke until at thirty-nine Ian bucked his hips and moaned loudly as his cum started to erupt from his aching stalk. True to her word Jo gave him eleven more strokes, allowing Ian to enjoy the majority of his orgasm before opening her hand and letting his cock continue to twitch and pump in thin air.
Ian would have loved a few more strokes, but he remembered all too well the time she had given him a target of hundred strokes and he had started to shoot at sixty five. Needless to say she continued to stroke his cock hard until he physically had to pull her hand away as he became far too sensitive. The paddling that followed had made it difficult for him to sit comfortably for a few days afterwards.
He opened his eyes to see his wife leaning over him, her gorgeous breasts spattered with streaks of white, creamy spunk and as she leaned closer he submissively stuck out his tongue and began to lick her skin clean. He couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d been allowed to cum and not been made to eat it, it was just normal now, expected. He looked up at her as he licked a string of cum from her nipple, she was beaming down at him, her smile wide, her eyes twinkling, satisfied that she was still the one in absolute control.
 *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *
Saturday and Sunday were busy for Charlotte and Jo. They finalised and wrote up the contract, spent hours talking through Charlotte’s concerns and roleplaying in preparation for the meeting with Martin and made sure that everything was in place to give Charlotte the maximum self-confidence before she came face-to-face with her husband. Jo knew all too well that this was of the utmost importance, her greatest worry was that seeing Martin would overwhelm her and she would revert to ‘old’ Charlotte, Jo was determined that this shouldn’t happen and decided to make a physical change to Charlotte to signify to her and also to Martin that she was not the same woman who came to the house just over a week ago.
So, on Sunday morning, just after lunch Jo took Charlotte’s hand and led her to the bedroom. Charlotte was a little nervous as there had been no sexual activity between the three of them since Ian had eaten her pussy so beautifully, and Charlotte half wondered if Jo was about to seduce her. When they entered the bedroom they found Ian waiting for them. Jo smiled at him and Ian sat in the chair while the two women sat on the edge of the bed.
“What’s going on?” asked Charlotte in a soft voice.
“We’re going to give you an ace up the sleeve,” said Jo. “Something which will make Martin powerless to resist you.”
Charlotte looked at her friend a little oddly.
“Trust me,” said Jo.
*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *
Charlotte got out of the shower and stood in front of the full length mirror, Jo had certainly been right about Ian’s skills with a razor, her pussy was now completely hair free and without a single nick or scrape. She couldn’t help running her fingers over her beautiful bald mound and softly stroking her naked lips. Perhaps Jo was right, perhaps this was an ace up her sleeve, after all Martin had often dropped hints that he would love to see her completely shaved and now she had done it. What’s more, Charlotte felt like this was something symbolic, something that marked the change in her, something that represented ‘new’ Charlotte… at least that’s what Jo had told her as she lay on the bed as Ian carefully and expertly scraped away every last wisp of hair from between her legs.
Charlotte reached into the bathroom cabinet and opened the bottle of baby oil, pouring it generously into her palm and then rubbing it carefully into her freshly shaven skin. Jo had told her that if she wanted to keep it looking it’s best she would need to shave every other day and keep the skin well moisturised and Charlotte was determined to do just that.
The longer she looked in the mirror, the more confident she became that Martin wasn’t going to know what had hit him. She looked at her watch, which she had left on the windowsill. It was just after six, just under two hours before she was supposed to be at home. Home, it seemed like forever since she’d walked out, but it was only really nine days. She was desperate to see Martin, even though she hated him for what he’d done to their marriage, she still loved him and she couldn’t wait to see how he’d respond to her, but at the same time she was scared stiff. She knew that she held all the cards in this scenario, but still it wasn’t easy to go through with what she and Jo had talked about and planned.
What if he flatly refused, then her only option was divorce. Otherwise things would just go back to how they were, and whatever else she was unsure about, she knew she didn’t want that. Not now. Jo and Ian had opened her eyes to a different life and one way or another Charlotte was determined to take that life for herself, it was Martin’s choice if he wanted to come along for the ride or not.
No, the genie was out of the bottle and Martin would either live with her, on his knees, or without her, for good.
*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Charlotte arrived home just after eight, she parked on the drive and looked across at Martin’s BMW. She was feeling more than a little nervous now and took a deep breath as she checked her make-up in the mirror. Satisfied that her make-up was good to go, Charlotte looked across at the front door, the front door she must have walked up to a thousand times, but this time was oh so different. She looked at her watch, then the door, then the mirror again, it was no good, she needed some moral support. She plucked her phone from her bag and dialled Jo’s number. Jo picked up on the first ring, she must’ve been almost waiting for her to call.
“Hi,” said Charlotte.
“You okay?” answered Jo.
“I don’t know… I’m kind of nervous.”
“No,” barked Jo. “You cannot be nervous, it won’t work if you show weakness, think about what he’s done to you Charlotte, he cheated on you, he fucked another woman behind your back and fathered a child… right now he doesn’t deserve you, he’s got to earn your respect and that’s going to take a long time, remember, we’ve talked all this through over and over…”
“Yes, I know,” Charlotte sighed heavily. “It’s just… difficult.”
“If you can’t go through with it then come back here.”
“But he’s made dinner…”
“So what? Better to come back here and go back when you’re ready.”
“No, it’s okay, you’re right, I’ve got to do this right now.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, positive.”
“Good girl, and remember… no mercy!”
“Ok, speak to you later.”
Charlotte clicked the phone off and dropped it back into her expensive leather handbag. Catching sight of her emergency cigarettes she decided that was exactly what she needed to take the edge off. One couldn’t hurt after all.
Charlotte turned the key in her ignition and depressed the button to roll down the window of her SLK. She took deep lungfuls of nicotine and blew them out into the warm evening air. By the time she got to the filter Charlotte was feeling much more in control and ready for what she knew she had to do.
She dropped her lighter into her bag, and flicked the cigarette butt out of the window. It was now or never. She checked her watch again, it was nearly 8:15pm. She pulled the key out of the ignition and opened the door. After locking her car she walked up the drive to the house and stood on the doorstep. For a second she thought about knocking, and then realising what a ridiculous notion that was, unlocked the door and marched into the house.
Martin appeared from the kitchen looking very timid and sheepish, her eyes narrowed when she saw him for the first time. Oh she wanted to run to him and kiss him alright, but there was no way on God’s earth she was going to throw in the towel that easily.
“Hello Martin,” she said, a little stiffly.
“Hi Charl,” he said smiling nervously. “You look gorgeous.”
It was just what Charlotte needed to hear, she smiled coolly at him and puffed out her chest a little.
“Smells good, what are we having?”
“Err, well, I wanted to make it special so I’ve made a warm pigeon Scotch egg with garlic mayonnaise, followed by fillet steak with Parmentier potatoes and salad, with Crème Caramel for dessert.”
“Very good,” smiled Charlotte, well, he was certainly trying. “I trust you’ve made the Crème Caramel yourself?”
“Yes , of course…”
Martin was a very good cook, which was one of the things that Charlotte loved about him when they first met, but over the years he had become lazy about cooking for her, so it was good to see that he had made a special effort.
“Would you like a drink?” asked Martin, tentatively.
“Yes please, just club soda on ice.”
Charlotte wanted a glass of wine so badly, but she knew above all else she had to keep a clear head and her wits about her. There would plenty of time for wine once she had sorted their lives out. And if things went the way she wanted them to, Martin would be the one serving it, every time.
“Oh,” said Martin.
“What?”
“I… thought you’d probably want a Chablis, there a very good one in the fridge.”
“Thank you Martin, but not at the moment, just a club soda.”
“Okay,” said Martin, scooting off to the kitchen to make the drink for his wife.
He returned a couple of minutes later with a tall glass, half filled with ice, soda and a thin slice of lemon.
“I didn’t ask for lemon Martin,” she said as she eyed the glass with mild disdain.
“Oh, sorry, I thought…”
Martin stood there for a moment, still holding out the glass until it became painfully obvious that Charlotte had no intention whatsoever of taking it. Her confidence was returning now and all that she and Jo had discussed was falling into place.
“I’ll, sort it out then…”
“Good,” said Charlotte. She had to force herself not to say ‘thank you’ or something similar, Martin had to learn his place in this new arrangement and it might as well start right now.
“Okay…”, he looked at her slightly oddly and then turned and headed for the kitchen, returning once more a few seconds later.
He offered her the glass once more.
“Is that a fresh glass or did you just fish the lemon out?”
“Huh?”
“You heard me.”
“Oh, err, well…”
Charlotte raised an eyebrow just a tiny bit, leaving Martin in no doubt that he better get his act together if he wanted any chance of winning her back.
“Yes, sorry, I’ll get a fresh one.”
Charlotte smiled to herself as she heard Martin opening another soda and pouring it into the glass. When he returned he walked up to her and offered her the glass once more, she took it without a word and the pair of them stood in silence for a few seconds until Martin said, “Okay?”
“Well, I’m sure it would taste better if I wasn’t standing in the hall.”
Martin looked confused for a second and then ushered Charlotte through to the dining room. Charlotte had to work hard to maintain her composure as Martin had absolutely excelled himself in here, there were tealights everywhere and the table was laid beautifully with a floral centrepiece, a freshly ironed tablecloth, more candles and all their best cutlery.
“Well, I told you not to disappoint me, and you haven’t, yet.”
Martin couldn’t quite believe this was the same woman who had stormed out of his life just seven days ago. Something about her had definitely changed.
Martin moved forward to pull out a chair and Charlotte smiled and stood directly in front of the other chair. Martin shuffled round and pulled the other chair out for her and she allowed him to seat her.
Martin excused himself and Charlotte was left alone for a few minutes. She smiled to herself as she surveyed her surroundings and realised how much effort Martin had gone to for her. That was a good start, though she wasn’t about to give him any awards. He had a long way to go this evening, and she was sure it wasn’t all going to go as smoothly as this.
As expected, Martin’s dinner was exemplary, and it made Charlotte realise just how much things had slipped before she had left last week. Between the starter and the main Martin surprised Charlotte with a beautiful glass of Champagne sorbet, which he knew she loved and Charlotte felt herself starting to let down her guard.
They didn’t talk all that much during the meal, it was almost as if they had both decided to wait until afterwards to talk things over, as such the conversation lacked substance, leaving them both to ponder what was to come.
After the Crème Caramel was finished, Martin made them both a coffee and they adjourned to the lounge to start their conversation in earnest. Martin sat on the sofa, hoping that Charlotte would sit down next to him, but she pointedly walked past him and chose to sit in a chair, which faced him at a slight angle.
Martin hid his displeasure as best he could and after a few moments of awkwardness launched into his speech. It was as predictable as it was pathetic, and only served to fire up Charlotte’s anger all over again. Whilst she had sat at the dinner table, eating Martin’s delicious food and struggling to get a grip on her inner dominant self, now he was spoon-feeding her everything she needed to work him over.
Finally, after about fifteen minutes of whining and excuse making, during which Charlotte had not said one word, Martin finished his lengthy ‘apology’ with the phrase ‘Please can you forgive me?’
Charlotte felt herself fuming inside, but she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her riled. She placed her empty glass on the table and leaned forward.
“Martin,” she said, authoritatively.
“Yes Charl,” God she hated that nickname.
“Come here.”
Martin stood up from the sofa and slowly moved across the carpet to where his wife sat in her chair.
“Kneel down there,” she said.
Martin looked at her quizzically, but Charlotte didn’t repeat herself, she merely pointed to the floor a couple of feet back from where her legs were. Martin slowly sank to his knees, unsure what was about to happen, but not knowing what else to do. Once there he realised that he could see right up Charlotte’s short red dress. He felt his cock slowly starting to harden as he realised just how much he wanted her.
Charlotte looked down at him and smiled when she recognized the obvious lust in his eyes.
“Do you like what you see?”
“Yes, of course…”
“Is that all?”
Martin furrowed his brow, unsure of quite what Charlotte was getting at. He looked again and Charlotte slowly parted her thighs, revealing to him that what he thought was a pair of light coloured underwear was actually her bare, shaved skin.
“Oh my God,” croaked Martin breathlessly, his cock quickly hardening until it was almost painful.
He looked up at her and she half laughed at his reaction.
“I’m not the same woman that left here last Friday Martin, I don’t know if you will be able to cope with the new Charlotte.”
“Charl, I…”
Charlotte held up her hand to stop him.
“Martin, don’t ever call me Charl again, I hate it, I always have.”
Martin looked dumbly at his beautiful, newly assertive wife. She really had changed.
“Now, what were you going to say?”
“I, I can’t believe you’ve shaved your…”
“My pussy Martin, yes, just today as a matter of fact, it’s lovely and smooth. Maybe one day you’ll get to feel it around your cock again, you’d like that wouldn’t you?”
Martin could hardly speak, his cock was throbbing so hard inside his trousers.
“Yes…”
“Yes, Mistress.”
There, she’d said it. Martin looked away then back at her beautiful glistening pussy. Charlotte slowly took hold of the hem of her dress and carefully pulled it up, her toned thighs spreading as she did so, offering him a perfect view of her completely hairless slit. She slid her hand over it and held it there, blocking his view.
“Say it.”
“What?”
“You know what.”
“I…”
“Or have you seen enough?”
“No, I…”
“Then say it.”
Charlotte looked down at Martin with a steady glare, daring him to disobey her. Martin swallowed hard, several times before summoning the words from deep in his throat.
“Yes… Mistress.”
“Good,” said Charlotte. “Now ask me nicely to remove my hand so that you can see my pussy.”
“Please remove your hand so that I can see your pussy…” said Martin, rather parrot fashion.
Charlotte closed her legs and removed her hand before sliding down her dress to cover herself up once again.
“Not good enough Martin.”
Martin looked slightly angry now, what the hell was she playing at teasing him like this? And what the hell was he doing kneeling on the floor, he wasn’t anybody’s slave or servant. Abruptly he rose to his feet and returned to his seat on the sofa opposite. He took a long swig of wine and then placed the empty glass on the table next to him.
“I told you Martin, I’m not the same woman who left here last week, and I’m certainly not the woman you married…”
“Really, well who are you then?” His tone was belligerent, challenging.
“I’m the woman you need to learn to worship Martin.”
Martin nearly choked on his tongue.
“Worship?”
“Yes, worship.”
“But…”
“But nothing. I’ve got you over a barrel and you know it. Or would you like a nice messy divorce? Perhaps you’d like to phone your father now and tell him he’s got a seven year old granddaughter he’s never met, and oh yes, just in case you’d forgotten she’s ‘black’.”
Martin stammered at her forthrightness.
“Well, I… I…”
Charlotte stared at him, wondering what he’d look like naked, with his cock encased in a steel chastity device, begging her to allow him to cum.
 “Or you could come over here and try again…”
Martin’s eyes glanced down between Charlotte’s parted legs once more, he couldn’t believe she had shaved her pussy, after all the times he’d asked her too, she had to go and do it now.
“Come on, we both know you want to. Give in Martin. Give in and learn to worship me…”
Martin sat rigid, unsure of what to do, his eyes flicking between Charlotte’s face and her alluring, smooth cunt. His cock was hard again and he cursed it for betraying him.
“I know you cock is hard Martin. Don’t try and pretend it isn’t.”
Martin felt his face flush, what the hell was happening here? Before he really knew what he was doing he found himself back on his knees at her feet, staring lustfully at her slippery wet pussy lips. Charlotte lifted her dress once more, spreading her thighs wider until her knees rested on the arms of the chair, and then placed her hand over her hot, wet hole once more.
“Please remove your hand so that I can see your pussy…” he begged.
“Better, but you forgot something…”
“Please remove your hand so that I can see your pussy, Mistress.”
“Very good, see you do know what you’re supposed to do really don’t you?”
“Yes Mistress.”
Charlotte slowly lifted her hand away, revealing once more her glistening pussy.
“Do you like it shaved?”
“You know I do, I asked you enough….”
Charlotte gave him a stern look.
“Yes Mistress, sorry Mistress.”
Charlotte allowed her fingers to gently tease her pussy lips, her knees pressing harder against the arms of the chair as she opened her legs wider. Martin was completely hypnotized, he had never seen his wife do anything like this before. His cock throbbed desperately in his pants and he started to rub it though his trousers.
“Stop that!” ordered Charlotte. “I did not give you permission to touch your cock.”
Martin looked at her dumbfounded.
“Unless you want me to stop, or course?”
Martin shook his head stupidly and removed his hand from his crotch.
“This is how it’s going to be in future Martin, can you handle it or shall we just announce our divorce  right now? I’m sure your father will understand.”
Charlotte smiled sweetly at her husband, the brief flash of fear in his eyes only serving to build her confidence. She wished Jo was here to see this, she would be so proud of her. The feeling of dominance she was experiencing right now brought a fresh rush to her pussy and she pushed her middle finger between her lips coating it with her juices. She held it out to Martin and he obediently sucked it clean. Strange, she thought, how the only way he ever used to go down on her was if he was getting a blowjob in return. Well that was going to change.
“You’d better get used to that taste Martin, because in future whenever I want you to go down on me, you’re going to be ready and willing, do you understand?”
Martin was so confused by what was happening that he nodded his agreement. He wasn’t really taking this in, or taking it particularly seriously. Sure Charlotte was pissed with him, and now she was blowing hot air to make him work to get back in her good books. He’d play along for a while and then everything would go back to normal. Yeah, he’d buy her flowers a bit more often and eventually everything would be forgiven and forgotten.
“Yes Mistress,” he said, unable to stop a smile creeping around his lips.
It seemed to Martin he’d hit the jackpot, Charlotte had left a week ago, as a fairly unremarkable woman, and had returned sans her pubic hair, wanting to play sex games.
“Wipe that smile off your face,” said Charlotte firmly. “You have no idea what you have got yourself into.”
Saying that she reached forward and grabbed the back of his head, pulling him into her lap and commanding him to lick her slippery cunt. Martin’s tongue was out in a flash, jabbing inexpertly at Charlotte’s wet slit, the taste and scent filling his nostrils, his cock throbbing to be released from his trousers.
Initially Charlotte revelled in the feel of Martin’s tongue lashing her pussy, but after a minute or two she became deeply dissatisfied, and started to long for Ian’s exemplary technique. She allowed him to continue for a few more seconds and then used her hand to push his head away. Martin knelt there gasping for breath and looking confused.
“That was hopeless,” she said. “You are going to have to learn to do a lot better than that.”
Martin was taken aback by her harsh words and was too stunned by her criticism to find the words to adequately defend himself. But even as he tried to formulate a comeback, his brain was short-circuited by the sight of his wife openly masturbating in front of him. His jaw fell open as Charlotte’s fingers expertly manipulated her wet, slippery clit and she started to moan softly as she brought herself closer to her orgasm.
“Touch your cock,” she breathed, her eyes like slits as she revelled in the exquisite pleasure of her own touch. “But don’t you dare cum.”
Martin unzipped his fly and pulled his hard, aching cock out through the gap. He stroked it softly, aware that anything more than that could result in an accident, and he didn’t want to piss her off right now.
Charlotte’s breathing began to quicken and the muscles around her midriff started to make tiny contractions, signifying the imminence of her release. She moaned again and threw her head back as she started to convulse violently on the chair, her legs straightening out as the spasms of her orgasm wracked her slender, toned body.
As he watched, Martin teetered on the edge of his own climax and was just about to give in to it when Charlotte opened her eyes and ordered him to let go of his cock. Martin ignored her order and she said it again, much firmer this time. Martin slowed his pace but still did not relinquish his grasp on his cock, leaving Charlotte no option but to slap his hand away.
He looked down at his pulsating cock, expecting her to grab it and finish him off but she merely sank back into the chair and stared at him malevolently. Something had definitely changed about Charlotte, both of them now realised.
“I need a drink,” announced Charlotte, completely oblivious to Martin’s situation.
“But…”
“But what Martin, why should I allow you to cum when you failed so miserably to get me off?”
Martin stared at her angrily.
“I told you Martin, things are going to be different around here and you’d better get used to it.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut short by Charlotte’s challenging expression.
“Something you want to say to me Martin?”
Martin struggled with his tongue.
“Good, now put your cock away, you look ridiculous like that.”
Martin wanted to say that she didn’t look much better, with her dress still bunched up around her waist, but he felt powerless to do so. He forced his engorged meat back into his trousers and, not knowing what else to do, picked up her glass from the table and went to get her a refill.
When he returned he found Charlotte sitting self-assuredly in her chair, waiting for him. On the coffee table he saw an A4 envelope and eyed it suspiciously, assuming it was some kind of legal document which sought to secure Charlotte the maximum financial recompense should Martin step out of line again. He was on the right track, but never in a million years would he have guessed what it really contained. 

CHAPTER FOUR HERE

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