This is the final Act of 'A Couple Brought Together'. However, the story will continue soon in 'A Couple Chained Apart', the second novella in the trilogy. Everything is based on actual events that took place between spring 2012 and early 2014. However, what follows is a fictionalised account and any resemblance to actual people or names is entirely coincidental.
The previous Acts in the dramatic arc of Chris and Jane's submission are: (I) 'Contract' (II) 'Catalyst' (III) 'Conflict' and (IV) 'Crisis'.
*****
ACT V: CATHARSIS
DAY THIRTY FIVE
Jane slid out of the window and started running. There was a full moon. It lit up the pathway like a stadium floodlight. She was barefoot, running naked through the night, escaping at last.
A window slammed open behind her and she heard loud voices, glass shattering.
"It's up to you! Him? Or you?" Her Master's voice shouted.
"Jane, help!"
It was Chris crying out. She ignored him and kept running. The winding path seemed endless, like a computer game. But real brambles cut her feet.
Suddenly something whistled past her ear. She heard a gunshot ricochet. It was a bullet, smacking into the gravel ahead. She had to keep running. She zigzagged, right, left, right.
Another gunshot. Her legs buckled. She fell over in slow motion. The bullet had ripped open her back. A great big hole, weeping crimson blood and creamy pus. She lay helpless, face down, hearing footsteps walking slowly up the path behind her.
She saw him standing above her in the moonlight.
Her Master was smiling.
"Them? Or you?"
Suddenly another couple appeared, a man and woman, standing next to him.
The woman was holding a pistol. She pointed it downwards.
"No!" Jane tried to scream.
She woke up in the pitch black, gasping for breath.
Her body and face were covered in sweat. The digital clock on the bedside table said 03:10.
Her heart was thumping.
She felt his gentle breathing on the back of her neck. He was sleeping peacefully, unaware of her nightmare. His stomach pressed lightly against her spine, his knee against her leg. He didn't always allow her to sleep in his bed. When he did it somehow felt special.
She took a few calm breaths, shut her eyes, and tried to go back to sleep.
*** *** ***
By now, Chris was spending his daylight hours above ground and he was only locked back in his cell overnight. Like Jane, he slaved hard from dawn to dusk, doing 14-hour days of household and garden chores. Due to the time of year, there was a lot to do outdoors; cutting, trimming, mowing, planting, moving debris, endless heavy tasks.
But I knew Chris was grateful for his promotion from living fulltime in the basement. I had warned him before we began that only I would decide when his prison fantasy would end. And, even now, I could decide to lock him back down in his cell any time I wanted during the remainder of his one-year contract.
I'd even stopped feeding him Prison Loaf. Like Jane, he now lived on healthy greens, raw vegetables, lean fish and tofu. His body was already leaner, wiry, pounds lighter.
And today he was getting his ultimate reward. His first orgasms in 35 days.
That's right. Orgasmssssss. Plural.
Chris and I carried the sturdy x-frame up from my basement onto the patio outside. It's a wooden crucifix that's screwed onto a rigid base of strong aluminum struts. I carefully strapped his wrists, ankles and waist into the leather straps, then tilted the x-frame back slightly so he was comfortably stretched out in the sunshine.
Earlier, Chris and Jane had set my outdoor dining table for lunch under the hot blue sky. I rolled the crucifix on its castors so that Chris was splayed at the head of the table, facing the sun, with a total of six places laid, three either side, for me and my guests. Finally I moved the large cream sun-umbrella and angled it so that our table was shaded but Chris remained in the hot sun.
My five male guests that day were Jacques, Dipak, Bert, his grand-nephew Jim, and a new buddy named Joshua. Jacques was also accompanied by his own slave Helene. He had come to pierce Jane's nipples for me.
Jim had returned Jane in good order. I'd been pleased to hear that she'd been a good wife to him during his leave. She'd 'looked after him' in the full sense of the phrase; home-cooked meals, washing and ironing, spring cleaning his place, and draining his balls.
While the men sipped our pre-lunch pink champagne, Helene made great ceremony of unscrewing Chris's steel Dictator chastity-tube. She had been the last female to touch his genitals, five weeks earlier. She released his equipment and 'ooo-d' and 'aaa-d' at his swollen balls and minor chafe marks, quickly bringing his freed cock up to full erection. His diaper rash was now fully healed.
Naturally, my guests all laughed and jeered, pointing our champagne glasses at his already sweating face and stretched out naked body. Helene was a skilled tease, running her red fingernails down Chris's bare chest, licking his nipples, kissing his earlobes. She touched his cock occasionally but mostly just caressed his body.
Our macho conversation was crudely explicit, all about Chris and Jane. We compared notes within Chris's earshot; Jacques was the only one who had fucked her bareback, the day he pierced her labia, and he recounted how sloppy her cunt had been.
Then Bert and Dipak relived Jane's first Bukkake. Everybody laughed as they described the shock on her face when her blindfold was finally taken off.
Jim gave us a few words about the past couple of days. He'd treated her nicely, taken her to pubs, introduced her to locals near where he lived.
She'd worn tight tops and short skirts that showed off her cleavage and legs. Naturally, he'd used her mouth and anus numerous times but he had been gruffly appreciative.
The fifth male was an extraordinary black guy I'd found recently on a sex contact site. His name was Joshua, although his nickname was 'Jumbo'. He was softly spoken, incredibly good looking, ebony black and six feet six tall. He was one of those men who pulled women effortlessly. The only reason he was looking on the internet was his penchant for kinky sex.
Joshua had the most beautiful, oversized cock to go with his handsome looks and ripped muscles. On his first casual visit to meet me, I'd interrupted Jane's household cleaning duties, so she could blow him while he and I chatted to get to know each other a little. I've read enough about 'big cocks' over the years to make me yawn, but Josh's was without doubt the largest I've ever seen. A true, Jumbo-sized trunk. Erect, it was over nine inches long and as thick as a wrist, almost purple, deeply veined and circumcised.
On that first meeting, Jane managed to get his plum helmet in her mouth and jerked him off with both her little hands. It only took her a couple of minutes but his orgasm was incredible. Jane was gulping for over ten seconds, trying to swallow it all as I'd trained her, but she couldn't cope and choked, retching his excess all over her skirt, stockings and my Persian rug. It was impressive young man's sperm; white, chunky, almost like breakfast porridge.
So now, a few days later, Josh and the others drank pink champagne and watched ringside with me as Helene built Chris's own erection up to frustrated fever pitch. Sunlight gleamed off his lean, pale body and beads of perspiration dripped down his face and chest. The new bald patch on top of his head reflected the sun's rays. His forearms and leg muscles clenched and unclenched as he lay strapped taut against the x-frame.
"And how iz the darling Jane?" Jacques asked. "Horny, of course?"
Everybody laughed. Jane was confined to the kitchen preparing our food.
"Of course." I replied. "But she's been learning self control."
"I had to pull out several times to prevent her from coming." Jim volunteered. "I'm talking ass and mouth. Trust me, eventually she'll learn to cum from anal."
"Not if I can help it." Bert muttered.
"I have bought some nice nipple rings for both of them. Matching."
We enjoyed a leisurely and delicious lunch; cold salmon, fresh asparagus, new potatoes, various salads, a magnum of chilled rose wine.
We discussed a wide range of topics too, not just sex. Jacques talked about wine making and his passion for Bordeaux. Joshua explained the rules of basketball to us. I chatted with Bert and Jim about Winston Churchill and his book 'The Second World War' that I was reading.
Meanwhile, throughout lunch, Helene used baby oil to moisten Chris's body until he shimmered with grease and sweat. She lubed his dick until it swayed with urgent, 35 day-old need.
"Are you intending to let him cum today?"
"Maybe." I sipped my wine. "We'll vote on it."
Despite the warm sunshine and unseasonal humidity, Bert was dressed impeccably in a blue blazer, silk bow tie and black shoes polished by Chris to military standards. He pointed his fork at Chris's midriff to make his point.
"I vote we let him have one today but then keep him waiting another ten weeks until the next."
Helene was using a feather now. She danced its tip along the underside of Chris's erection as if she was conducting an orchestra, teasing the swollen vein, as it jerked and bobbed like a branch in the breeze. She slid the feather under his balls and tickled the cleft of his buttocks until he gasped with desire. We all snickered.
"I should like to empty my own balls before he does." Jacques said, pushing his plate away and lighting a Gitanes cigarette. He exhaled a grey plume of tobacco smoke.
"Of course, my friend. In the kitchen."
Jacques got up and disappeared into the house, while the rest of us finished eating, chatting, idly watching Helene tormenting Chris.
"I vote we keep the boy waiting another week." Dipak announced.
Less than five minutes later, Jacques reappeared, zipping up his jeans, the last inch of his Gitanes still stuck to his lower lip. He patted Chris on his shoulder as he walked past him.
"Your wife is a good vide couilles, mon ami."
Chris blinked at him, not understanding.
A 'vide couilles' literally means 'empty balls' and it's a French term for a 'cumbucket'. Something you literally empty your balls into. Jacques had simply nipped into the kitchen and dumped his load down Jane's throat. In contrast, Jane's own husband was still no nearer to actually relieving his balls than he was an hour earlier.
"My congratulations." Jacques said to me. "Jane looks much better than she did a month ago. Not only thinner and healthier, but er, how do you say in English, she seems happier in herself. More content."
"It's been fucking hard work for us." Bert replied on my behalf, without a hint of sarcasm. "You have to train their minds as well as their bodies. But I agree she's definitely better now than she was as the start."
"So that she can attract a much better standard of man. For example, like me!" Dipak joked.
