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Sunday, 17 February 2013

Unfinished Femdom Cave Book Project - Part One...

Sometime in 2012 I was approached by FemdomCave to write a story for them. The only stipulation was that it had to be 'forced' Femdom in nature. Having looked at some examples, I was underwhelmed by the 'set ups' that were being used and decided to make mine far more plausible and intricate. This inevitably tied the story in knots and I eventually grew exasperated with the whole project and decided to scrap it. I think I got about 40,000 words down before I gave up, so even unfinished it may be worth reading...?


The envelope lay just off the front door mat, where it had fallen from the letterbox that morning. Charlotte bent down to pick it up, her slender fingers bending the corner as she did so. She looked at it suspiciously, it was addressed to her husband of six years and stamped with the name of a firm of solicitors, but not a local firm. Why on earth would a firm of solicitors be writing to her husband, she thought. As she stood there in the hallway pondering on the possible contents of the envelope Charlotte remembered that Martin had told her this morning that he would be late home, as he was playing in a five a side football match for the local pub.
Charlotte placed the letter on the sideboard and wandered into the kitchen, kicking off her shoes as she went. She’d been on her feet most of the day at her office in the town and what she really needed right now was a nice glass of wine, preferably a Chablis. She gripped the fridge door and pulled it open, no Chablis, but a Sauvignon Blanc would do nicely. Charlotte plucked the bottle from the fridge and felt the nicely chilled bottle against her skin, it was a warm August Friday and this was just what the doctor ordered.
Charlotte took her glass of Sauvignon Blanc and moved into the lounge to sit down on one of the two large cream sofas. She flicked the wall mounted TV into life and watched the news for a while, waiting for the financial reports. She swilled the wine in her glass as she watched and soon her thoughts returned to the envelope now resting on her sideboard.
Why was Martin receiving correspondence from a solicitor in another town, not even a nearby town? Perhaps it was marketing, she thought. But why would anyone want to advertise themselves to Martin, he worked for his father in the family firm, surely any correspondence would be sent directly to his office. Charlotte tapped her fingernail against the edge of the glass, should she open the letter? No, she couldn’t. But if it was innocent then where was the harm, she could always say she opened it by accident, Martin was always opening her post ‘by accident’ although sometimes she wondered if it was or not.
She was mildly appalled by herself, but still the feeling of doubt wouldn’t go away. Time was ticking on and Martin’s match would soon be finished. Should she leave the letter for him to find or…
Charlotte found herself marching through to the hallway, the letter glaring at her from the highly polished wooden sideboard. She placed the wineglass carefully on the pristine walnut surface and took the envelope in her hands. Little did she realise that her whole life was about to change
*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *
Martin Grant pulled his 5-series BMW into the drive of the home he shared with his wife of six years, exhausted from the football match he’d just participated in and eager to get home and get started on his beer. He opened the car door and heaved himself out of the air-conditioned interior into the warmth of the evening sun. He walked around to the rear of his car and plucked his sports bag from the boot, clicked the remote and walked steadily up to his front door, blissfully unaware that the shit really was about to hit the fan.
Charlotte heard Martin’s key in the door and took up her position in the hallway, hands on her hips and a face like thunder. She was a small woman, a good natured woman, rarely prone to outbursts or displays of temper, but today she was about to go nuclear.
Martin’s key turned in the lock and the door swung open into the hallway. Martin spied his wife standing there barefoot on the thick cream carpet and instinctively went on the defence, he knew he’d told her about his football match… then he realised she’d been crying.
“What…what’s the matter, Charl?”
Charlotte felt herself welling up inside, she wanted to be one of those women who threw things, who screamed abuse and stormed out, but she knew she was not one of those women. Instead she threw the letter at his feet, burst into tears and retreated to the cream sofa and her wineglass.
Martin plucked the letter from the carpet and realised that his life had just been turned upside down.
“Oh shit,” he murmured to himself, dropping the sports bag in the hall as he rushed into the lounge and his sobbing wife.
“Bastard,” she hissed from behind her dark brown bob, and then collapsed into more tears.
Martin tried to put his arms around her, but she pushed him firmly away.
“Get off me,” she wailed. “You don’t get to touch me ever again.”
Martin was slightly taken aback by Charlotte’s tone, he’d never seen her like this in his life, but then she’d never found out about his child before now.
“I can explain,” he started.
“Bastard,” fired Charlotte again. “How can you explain Martin, she’s seven years old?”
Martin took a step back, he hadn’t read enough of the letter to realise that this situation was worse than he thought.
“You cheated on me and had a child behind my back, how can you explain that Martin?”
“I…”
Charlotte glared at him, she had believed their marriage to be strong and honest, not perfect, no marriage ever is, but she believed in him and thought nothing could ever tear them apart. But this, this was too big a betrayal, and deep in her heart she knew that this was the end of everything she had put her faith in.
Martin suddenly changed his tone, a note of panic creeping into his voice.
“Have you told anyone else about this?”
Charlotte struggled to believe what she had just heard.
“What?”
“Have you told anyone else about this?”
“I heard you the first time… what do you mean?”
Martin looked shaken for the first time.
“This can’t get out,” he said.
“Why?”
“It will ruin everything.”
Charlotte looked at him in disbelief, as far as she was concerned everything was ruined already, what did it matter if she told anyone else? Let them know, let them all know that her husband was a cheating bastard. For all she cared they could hang a banner across the front of their house and for all she cared he could hang himself from the lamp-post next to their drive as well.
“You don’t understand,” implored Martin. “If my parents find out…”
Charlotte screwed up her tear stained face at him, had he lost his mind?
“Your parents? What about me!”
“No Charl, listen I’m serious, if my father finds out about this then I’m done, he’ll bring Jack into the business, I’ll get pushed out and I’ll end up with nothing.”
Charlotte burst into tears once more, the tiny droplets of salty water making circular marks on the material of the otherwise spotless cream sofas.
“You know what they’re like, my parents are totally against children out of marriage and besides…”
Martin’s voice trailed off and Charlotte looked up, his face blurred by the tears in her eyes.
“Maria’s… black.”
Charlotte was stunned into silence, now she realised why Martin was so worried. Martin’s father was an unashamed racist, finding out he had an illegitimate grand-daughter he didn’t know about was bad enough, finding out she was black was unthinkable. Martin was right, he would cut him off, he’d sack him on the spot and damn the consequences. No wonder Martin was looking so panicked.
Well good, thought Charlotte after a few seconds. It’s really not my problem is it. In fact, it’ll be a pleasure to let the racist prick know his family has been infiltrated by ‘outsiders’, as he called them. The more she thought about it the more she relished the opportunity to rub his face in it, while Martin watched his life fall apart from the side-lines.
Suddenly Martin was imploring her not to tell his parents about Katie and Maria, and for the first time since their marriage began Charlotte realised she had some kind of control.
“Please Charl, I’ll do anything…”
Charlotte looked with utter contempt at the man she had loved for the last nine years.
“Did your vows mean nothing?”
“Y…yes of course they did, this all happened before…”

“Before we were married, but not before we were together Martin. How could you do that to me, I thought you loved me.”
“I did… I do love you, you know I do.”
“So how come you’ve got a fucking child then?”
“It was a mistake, I was young…”
“You were thirty years old!”
“I was drunk…”
“Christ you’re a walking clichΓ© aren’t you?”
“It was one time…”
“One time, you expect me to believe you fucked someone once and got her pregnant?”
Even as the words left her lips Charlotte realised how stupid they were, it happened all the time didn’t it? But that wasn’t what Charlotte meant and Martin knew it.
Martin’s lip started to tremble as he mumbled his next words.
“Okay, it wasn’t once, it was… more than once.”
“How many times Martin? How many times did you fuck this slut behind my back?”
“I don’t know, eight, ten maybe.”
Charlotte felt a fresh river of tears welling up in her tear ducts.
“You arsehole,” she breathed.
“I know, I was stupid, I was an idiot, I can’t believe I did it… it was when I went on that project, I stayed away for three weeks, in Leeds… I don’t know how it started, I met her in a pub and…”
“I don’t give a shit where you met her, how you met her or why Martin, you’ve ruined everything and all for some cheap slag you met in a pub!”
Charlotte fumed silently for a moment.
“Did you tell her about me?”
“What?”
“Did you tell this woman about me? Or did you pretend to be available?”
“I didn’t tell her anything until later.”
“What do you mean later?”
“She contacted me, told me she was pregnant, I begged her to get rid of it, but she wouldn’t, said she’d never do it. Then I told her I was engaged, almost married. She wasn’t bothered, she didn’t want a relationship, but she needed money and she knew I had it. So we made an arrangement through a solicitor…”
“I can’t believe you kept it from me, all this time.”
“What could I do, I knew you’d leave me…”
“Jesus.”
Charlotte held her head in her hands and let out a low frustrated groan.
“Have there been others, since?”
Martin looked aghast at the suggestion.
“No. I swear. No one but you, I love you.”
Charlotte felt herself start to cry once more and scrambled up from the well-padded sofa.
“I’ve got to get out of here,” she sighed.
She fled away up the stairs and collected some clothes from her wardrobe. Within a few minutes she was back in the hall looking through the door at Martin who was staring blankly at the wall above the fireplace.
“I’m going,” she announced suddenly, breaking the silence.
“Please don’t go…” begged Martin, rising from his chair and moving towards her.
Charlotte backed away, her car keys gripped firmly in her hand.
“I need to get out, I need to think…”
“Please,” whimpered Martin. “I’ll do anything.”
Charlotte once again imagined the look on Martin Snr’s face when she broke the news to him, oh it would be good to take that pompous prick down a peg or two. But she was sober enough to know not to rush into it, after all she still had feelings for Martin, he was still her husband and… no, she would never feel the same about him again, this could never be repaired.
She turned on her heel and slammed the front door behind her, leaving Martin bereft in the hallway. She stumbled towards her car, she knew she was too drunk to drive but she had to get out of there. She slipped into her silver SLK and gunned the engine. She reversed out of the drive, noisily scratching the rear wing on the gatepost in the process.
“Fuck!” hissed Charlotte.
She half got out of the car to check the damage and then thought better of it, it was done now and she needed to get the hell away from Martin and the house.
Behind the front door Martin collapsed against the wall, hearing first the sound of metal scraping metal and then the exhaust note of his wife’s car fading into the distance.
  *  *  *  *  *  *  *
Ian Cross teetered precariously on the edge of orgasm. His wife of seven years, Jo, had been gently stroking his cock for the last ten minutes as he eagerly licked her ass, slowly drawing him closer and closer to the edge just like she had done so many times before. She knelt astride his face, enjoying the sensation of his tongue forcing its way inside her tight hole as she skilfully manipulated his cock, keeping him effortlessly on the edge of orgasm but not allowing him the final push needed to cross the precipice. As Ian’s tongue worked deeper inside her musky hole, Jo’s fingers stroked her clit, pushing herself nearer and nearer to her own release.
As she neared her climax Jo released her grip on Ian’s throbbing meat, leaving it bobbing in the air as he sought something, anything, that would cause enough friction to tip him over the edge. But Jo was only interested in her own pleasure now and she became more frantic in her movements, frigging her pussy at speed as she pushed her ass down onto her husband’s face and verbally encouraging him to push his tongue deeper into her asshole. Ian gladly obliged, his cock tensing madly as he did so, he was so close, if only she would give it one more stroke…
Neither of them heard the car pull up outside as Jo began to cum. She shook violently as her cunt flooded, pounding her ass down against her husband’s aching, stiff tongue, while his cock lay flat against his stomach, a few beads of pre-cum leaking from the tip. Jo collapsed forward onto her husband’s body, allowing him to take some much needed gulps of fresh air as she delicately licked the drops of precum from the tip of his cock, mumbling her pleasure and causing him to pump his hips in frustration.
The doorbell sounded loudly throughout the house and Ian groaned in frustration, he knew deep down that this interruption was unlikely to affect his chances of coming but it was intensely irritating all the same. He closed his eyes and focused on the sensation of her tongue flicking across the head of his cock, lapping up his precum. He knew Jo was just toying with him and that what she loved most of all,  was to see and taste his cock leaking that clear liquid that told her that she had him exactly where she wanted him.
Jo continued to enjoy herself, pushing her tongue into the eye of Ian’s cock, hungry for more pre-cum, wanting him to feel like he was hanging off the edge of a cliff, knowing that he would never willingly cum without permission and eager to exploit every last drop of his devotion. For his part Ian was doing everything in his power to prevent the touch of Jo’s slippery tongue pushing him past the point of no return. He wanted to cum alright, but only once Jo had given him permission, anything else would be a failure and a huge let down for them both.
The doorbell sounded a second time and then Jo’s mobile rang out from the next room. She lifted her head up and gave Ian’s balls a hard squeeze.
“Looks like someone doesn’t want you to cum tonight,” she said, barely concealing her amusement at her own joke.
Ian groaned anew as Jo squeezed his balls harder still, her fist closing around them, holding for a few seconds and then releasing for a short time before repeating the cycle several times. The phone continued to ring out until Jo finally released her husband’s aching balls from her grasp and got off the bed. She padded naked (save for the key around her neck) into the next room and retrieved her phone, before walking back to the bedroom with it clutched to her ear.
Ian lay sprawled across the bed, his cock still throbbing desperately as his wife walked back into the room. He found her nakedness endlessly arousing, even after so long together, and he always felt a profound sense of disappointment every time she wrapped a dressing gown around herself or otherwise hid her beautiful body under clothes. Jo’s somewhat negative feelings towards her body were typical of every woman he had ever been with and he went out of his way to verbally combat them at every turn.
Jo glanced across at him and smiled, watching as her husband fought the natural urge to grab his cock and pump it until it erupted its load across his stomach. But she knew he would never give in to that urge, the consequences were simply too much to bear thinking about.
Jo hung up the call and sighed deeply.
“Charlotte’s outside, she’s… well, something’s happened with Martin.”
“What sort of something?” asked Ian raising his head slightly, making a mental note to punch Martin in the face next time he saw him.
“I’m not 100% sure, she’s crying and a bit drunk… perhaps you’d better stay up here for a while.”
“Okay,” said Ian.
Jo moved closer to him and closed her hand around his throbbing prick, squeezing hard as she kissed him deeply on the lips, tasting herself on his tongue.
“That was wonderful,” she said, smiling broadly.
“You weren’t going to let me cum anyway, were you?”
Jo let out a slight chuckle.
“Maybe, maybe not… we’ll never know now will we.”
She pulled away from her husband and plucked her dressing gown from the chair next to the bed.
“Awwww, don’t do that…” moaned Ian.
Jo smiled once more.
“I’m sure Charlotte doesn’t want to see me like this,” she chided.
“Why not? If I was Charlotte I’m sure I would love to see you like that…”
Ian’s cock throbbed anew as he pictured Jo’s face pressed firmly into Charlotte’s pussy as he pounded his cock into his wife’s tight ass from behind.
“It’s never going to happen Ian, you know that don’t you?”
“You never know,” he said laughing at how easily she could read his mind.
“Men, you’re all the same aren’t you… even you, deep down.”
Jo cast a glance in the direction of Ian’s still hard stalk.
“I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that that thing needs to be put back in its cage before you go to bed, and that your balls better not be any lighter than they are now when you do.”
Suddenly Ian was more serious.
“No Mistress.”
“Good. If I’m not up by midnight, come down and see what’s going on.”
“Yes Mistress.”
As Jo began descending the stairs Ian was already visualising his entry into the front room at midnight, where he envisaged witnessing his wife and her hot friend sprawled across the large leather sofa, fingers inside each other’s soaking wet pussies as they frigged each other to one massive climax after another.
He looked across at the chastity device lying empty on the bedside table.  He was half tempted to stroke his cock a little before he put it back on, but he knew that if he did he might not be able to stop himself. Besides, Jo had placed a lot of trust in him by leaving him to replace the cage and he did not want to give her any cause for doubting his devotion to her.
He leaned over and plucked the cage from the nightstand and waited for his cock to soften sufficiently before carefully replacing the device and clicking the small brass padlock shut. As much as he had gotten used to the feeling of being confined at Jo’s mercy, it was still sometimes difficult for him to completely accept what he had given up for her. But he knew deep down that he loved it all the same.
*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *
Jo opened the front door and peered out, wondering where Charlotte had disappeared too. She took a couple of steps out of the doorway and saw the girl leaning against her new but now slightly scratched SLK smoking a cigarette. This was bad news. Charlotte had finally quit smoking last year after a humungous effort and Jo knew that whatever had happened must be extraordinarily serious to make her start again.
“Charlotte,” hissed Jo from her doorway.
Charlotte looked across and stamped her cigarette out on the pavement. She rushed up the driveway to where her friend was waiting for her, grabbed onto her and immediately burst into tears. Jo held her upright and slowly managed to manoeuvre her inside the small three bedroom house.
“What’s happened?” asked Jo as she held her friend close and comforted her.
“Martin…bastard…kid,” mumbled the younger woman.
Jo led her into the lounge and once she had her safely sat down fetched her glass of water. Charlotte took the water and sipped it as she recounted the whole sorry tale to her best friend. Jo listened sympathetically as the full story unravelled in front of her, Charlotte breaking down several times as she related the details of her painful discovery.
Once Charlotte had finally finished explaining the whole story, Jo sat back for a moment and allowed everything that she had been told to settle in her mind.
“Are you going to leave him?”
Charlotte burst into tears again, her dark bobbed hair sticking to her cheeks, her beautiful green eyes blurry as she tried to focus.
“I don’t know…I don’t know what to do. I still love him, and really, everything has been perfect for the last few years…it’s not like he’s been unfaithful recently, it’s so long ago.”
“But he still cheated on you,” pressed Jo. “Don’t lose sight of that, you were still together when he did it, even if you weren’t married.”
“I know,” wept the girl, fighting back a new wave of tears. “I just don’t know what to do.”
The two women fell silent for a few moments, until finally Charlotte piped up once more.
“I know you’ve never been crazy about Martin, but… he does love me, I know he does. I’m just so confused.”
“I know,” said Jo comfortingly. “I don’t have anything against Martin, it’s just… sometimes I think he needs to see that there’s more to life than money, you know?”
Charlotte nodded almost imperceptibly.
“You can’t buy happiness, a nice house and a posh car isn’t going to make up for all those late nights spent apart…” Jo desperately wanted to push on and blurt out one of the two secrets she had kept from her friend for the last few years, but she felt herself putting on the brakes. Charlotte was tired and emotional, now was not the time to explain what she thought would be a very good remedy for Charlotte and Martin’s relationship.
Instead Jo changed the subject and soon Charlotte had put Martin to the back of her mind for a while. Midnight came and went and eventually Ian’s footsteps were heard as he descended the stairs. He padded softly into the lounge, his ill-fitting jeans and loose T-shirt doing nothing to accentuate his good figure and strong, defined arms.
Charlotte looked up and smiled as Ian walked into the room. She couldn’t believe this was the same man that Jo had married just seven years ago. Then he sported a long mane of hair and was at least two stone overweight, but now he was fit, trim and his head was completely shaven.
As she watched him cross the room Charlotte caught herself wondering what it would be like to feel his cock inside her. Wow, where did that came from, she thought. Christ, is that what it’s come to, fancying my friend’s husband? She stared at Ian’s crotch area and noticed how substantial it seemed to be, the curve of his cock filling even the loose fitting jeans he was wearing quite nicely. She tore her eyes away and looked at Jo, wondered if she had seen her looking, wondered if she might think of her as a threat now that Martin was out of the picture. Was Martin out of the picture? Was her marriage over? Was she going to become another statistic, another divorcee about to plunged head-first back into the dating pool?
“I’ve made up the spare bed,” said Ian finally, smiling warmly at Charlotte and trying to hide his mild disappointment that the two women weren’t wrapped in each other’s arms with their skirts up around their waists and their fingers deep in each other’s dripping cunts.
“Thanks Ian,” said Jo. “You go to bed, I’ll be up soon.”
She gave him a look that only the two of them could understand and Ian nodded almost imperceptibly, assuring her that his cock was once again locked in its cage. Reassurance given,  Ian turned on his heel and disappeared up the stairs once more, smiling to himself as he realised that Charlotte looked pretty impressed by his ‘package’, even if she didn’t realise that it wasn’t exactly what she thought it was.
Charlotte looked at Jo, smiled and said, “How come Ian looks better than when you married him and Martin doesn’t?”
Jo laughed and said, “Well, it wasn’t easy, but I have my methods, maybe I will share them with you tomorrow.”
The two women stood up, Jo led Charlotte up the stairs and showed her where the spare bedroom was and kissed her goodnight, holding her just a little longer than was really necessary. Charlotte didn’t really notice, she was exhausted and soon after fell into a restless sleep.
Jo opened the door of her bedroom to find Ian sitting up in bed reading, when he saw her come in he put down his book and asked, “Is she okay?”.
“Not really. Martin…” she exhaled loudly. “Martin had a kid.”
“What?”
“I know. What an idiot… it was before they were married, and he never told her about it.”
“Why the hell would he do that?”
“Well, because it wasn’t that long before they were married. He went to Leeds for a few weeks while they were engaged, met this other woman… and, well, I’m sure I don’t need to paint you a picture.”
“Christ…”
“Yes, it’s a bloody mess alright.”
“What’s she going to do?”
“I’m not sure, she says she loves him but she feels totally betrayed.”
“Fair enough,” said Ian, puffing out his lips.
Jo slipped her dressing gown off and Ian felt his cock trying to harden inside his chastity device as he looked at her approvingly. She slipped into the bed and slid her hand up the inside of his leg until she came to his full, aching balls.
“I’m sorry you didn’t get to cum earlier,” she said smiling.
“No you’re not,” he responded knowingly.
“Okay, maybe I’m not,” Jo responded. “But I might reconsider, if you promise to help me.”
Ian grunted as her nails found his soft ball-skin and dug in.
“What do you want me to do?”
“I want you… to help me… show Charlotte… how things could be better.”
Ian looked confused, surely she didn’t mean…
“I want you to help me give Charlotte back control of her marriage, just like I have control of ours.”
Ian’s face was a picture.
“You think Martin will go for it?”
“I have no idea.”
“Yeah but hang on, this is private… between us, we’ve always promised each other that we would never involve our friends or family…”
“Yes, well maybe it’s about time you proved yourself a little more publicly.”
Ian spluttered at the thought until Jo played her trump card.
“Surely you wouldn’t want to pass up the opportunity to serve Charlotte, would you?”
Ian looked at his wife incredulously. Was she serious? He’d always thought Charlotte was stunning to look at but he’d always known she wasn’t ‘twisted’ enough for his tastes. Now Jo was offering him the chance to help mould her and possibly more… But Ian was cautious too, sure he fancied the arse off of Charlotte, but he was devoted to Jo and he was instantly wary of anything which might cause a problem between them, especially if that problem came in the form of a very attractive friend.
“I’m not sure,” he said finally, his lip twitching ever so slightly. “If I agree to serve her, it will only be  because you want me to.”
“Agreed, I wouldn’t expect anything else.”
“I’m still not sure I want her to know though… I mean, what if she freaks out then gets back with Martin anyway, what if she tells him about us?”
“It’s a risk, I agree. But I think it’s worth it don’t you? Wouldn’t you love to see Martin under Charlotte’s control?”
Ian nodded resignedly, wondering if Charlotte really had it in her to take control of her slightly moronic husband.
“So you’ll help me?”
“Maybe.”
Jo’s fingernails dug hard into Ian’s nutsack once again, causing his cock to swell further in its prison.
“Well, it’s up to you. But you’ll be allowed out of this thing a lot quicker if you do,” she said tapping the chastity device that encased his throbbing flesh. “Besides, I bet you’d love to show Charlotte how good you are with your tongue?”
Ian looked at his wife, a mixture of lust and shock written across his face.
“Well, we’ve got to convince her that its worth it haven’t we, and what better way than to show her how well a submissive male eats pussy?”
Ian smiled and arched his eyebrow, hoping to show his wife right now. Jo smiled and kissed him.
“No, not now, it’s late, and I’m exhausted.”
“Okay,” mumbled Ian disappointedly. He knew he had no right to be disappointed as he had already spent a considerable amount of time worshipping Jo’s ass that evening, but when it came to eating pussy Ian just couldn’t get enough, ever.
Sensing her husband’s disappointment and mindful of the fact that she wanted him onside in the coming days, Jo relented and pulled herself on top of him and straddled his face.
“You have two minutes and then I’m going to sleep.”
Ian didn’t waste a second, and soon had his tongue deep inside his wife’s rapidly moistening cunt.
“Mmmm,” moaned Jo as her husband’s talented tongue flicked around inside her, eager for every drop of pussy juice it could get before her two minute deadline.
“You love my pussy don’t you,” whispered Jo as she ground her cunt against Ian’s entire face, coating it with her juices.
“You love having my cunt juice all over your face, inside your nostrils, so you can smell my cunt all the time, don’t you?”
Ian groaned his approval as his wife ground her clit against his nose while his tongue lapped once more at the entrance to her asshole. Suddenly Jo pulled away from his face, leaving him gasping as he looked up at her his eyes pleading for her to allow him to continue.
“Please,” he begged. “Please let me make you cum.”
Jo looked down at him for a few seconds and then slid her hand down between her naked thighs. Ian watched transfixed as his wife used her fingers to tease open her soaking wet pussy lips and then slide her middle finger into the wet, pink flesh. Ian’s cock ached inside its prison and he panted shamelessly as he watched Jo coat the digit in her warm, slick juices. Finally she extracted her finger and offered it to him to lick clean. Ian’s head lifted as he sucked her finger into his mouth and swallowed the delicious nectar.
“That’s all for tonight,” said Jo with finality. “Maybe tomorrow there’ll be something you can do for me…”
Jo bent down and kissed him gently on the lips, her breasts pressing against his chest and her pussy grinding slightly against his chastity device.
“Mmm, that feels so good doesn’t it? So close to my beautiful pussy, if only I would let you out so you could fuck me hard and fill me full of your cum…”
Ian groaned into her mouth, she knew exactly how to push his buttons and she was playing a blinder.
“Kiss it,” said Jo, holding the key on her necklace to his lips. “Kiss it and say thank you Mistress.”
Ian obeyed without question and satisfied of his complete submission, Jo lifted herself off and turned onto her side to go to sleep. Within a few minutes she was away, while Ian spent the next forty-five minutes trying to calm himself down, before he too finally fell asleep. 

CHAPTER TWO HERE

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