"You're damn right I am."
"Does that mean you're no longer interested in sleeping with Brooke?" There, I asked the critical question, terrified of his possible answer.
"Fuck no, it doesn't mean that. I explained that to the dumb slut from the start. My new girlfriend and I are fuck buddies. We both sleep with other people. She doesn't care if I continue to fuck your wife, as long as she gets to join the party."
Thank goodness! "So, nothing's changed in that respect, sir, over the last couple of months?"
"I wouldn't say that, prof. What's changed is that Brooke refused my demands, and asked me to move my stuff out. It hurt my feelings. I'm a very sensitive guy, prof. Didn't you know that? It also hurt the feelings of my girlfriend. She was really looking forward to having fun with Brooke, and you."
"Does that mean you're not willing to come back anymore?", I asked nervously.
"Well now, that all depends, prof. For me to agree to come back after being rejected by your dumb slut of a wife for a second time, there would have to be consequences. Serious consequences. I don't like being rejected or refused. I don't like it one fucking bit. I do miss her sweet tits, and her ass. I miss your foot massages, too, prof. And your cooking. So, I might consider coming back, under the right circumstances. But if I did agree to it, Brooke would have to understand something very important: she wouldn't get a third chance. If she asked me to leave a third time, that would be it. For good. Three fucking strikes and you're out. Do you think the dumb slut is capable of understanding that?"
As much as it enraged me to hear Luke call Brooke a "dumb slut" -- when I had no doubt that she has a much higher IQ than him -- I simply replied, "Yes, sir, I know she's capable of understanding that. I'm sure she knows it instinctively, but I will make certain that she knows your position explicitly."
"Hold on, prof. That's only relevant IF I agree to come back. Like I said, I'd only consider it now under the right circumstances. Gotta be consequences, as I said. When I told Brooke in December that I expected her to submit to my girlfriend, I was envisioning mostly in the bedroom. Now, in order to make up for our hurt feelings, it would have to be more than just fun and games in the bedroom. And it would have to be more intense. Do you catch my drift?"
"I understand, sir, and I'm sure that would not be problem. Brooke said she would be willing to accept any conditions required by you, AND your girlfriend -- she said that very clearly -- if you would agree to come back. The way she put it, sir, is that the two of you should quote unquote 'lay out the terms of my surrender' and that she would offer no resistance."
"'Terms of her surrender'. I like that, prof. Sort of makes me feel like a conquering general or something. But it's not only up to her, prof. It would seriously affect you, too. Things would be very different than before. It wouldn't be pleasant for you, most of the time. For either of you."
"I understand that, sir. I'm completely willing to accept whatever conditions Brooke accepts. I'd work tirelessly to make you feel that you made the right decision in agreeing to come back. I'd make sure your girlfriend feels welcome in our home."
"Welcome?! She'd need to feel a lot more than just welcome, for fuck's sake. I'd expect you and your stupid slut of wife to make her feel like a queen -- in your home, in my home or anywhere else the four of us are together. Capiche?"
"Yes, sir. That's what I meant to say. I completely understand."
"I'll take your request under consideration and discuss it with my girlfriend."
"Thank you, sir, sincerely. It would mean so much -- to both of us."
As we parted ways, Luke asked, "How is your book coming along, prof?"
"Thank you for asking, sir. Truthfully, I've been struggling to write lately. I think I have a bit of writer's block."
"Well, if I did agree to come back, you'd get to observe what happens in a submissive cuckquean relationship. Because that's sort of what Brooke would be. I mean I'd still fuck her and all, but not as often. And my girlfriend would have a say in when, and how, she gets off. Sort of like me with you. It would be some new material for your book, maybe could help you with your block. Were you planning on writing about cuckqueans in your book, or only cuckolds?"
Luke sometimes truly surprised me. In fact, I had not considered including a chapter about submissive cuckqueans before then. But it made perfect sense. The cuckquean fetish/lifestyle has been exploding in popularity in recent years, if the erotic story sites and Reddit forums are any indication (as I'm convinced they are). I had come across very little in the available scholarly literature about female knights, so there was less of a clear connection to chivalry with cuckqueans than with cuckolds. But given the increasingly broad direction my new book had been taking, did that even matter? And when I really thought about it, even The Little Foot Page character has a hint of submissive chivalry about her, laboriously walking on foot while her lover rode on horse. I resolved to do more research into female knights. And to give serious consideration to Luke's suggestion about including cuckqueans in my book.
"I had not thought about it, sir. But you may indeed be onto something. Thank you, sir."
"Don't mention it, prof. I'll let you know our decision soon."
When I got home, I filled Brooke in on the details of my conversation with Luke, including his high level expectations and conditions should he magnanimously agree to give us another chance -- another chance at domination, humiliation and servitude, but now at a different level of intensity, with a new participant. A new master, or mistress, to serve. A new player in the game. Of course, high level expectations were one thing; the devil is usually in the details.
The two of us sitting on our bed, Brooke groaned as I shared some of the conditions Luke set forth, especially about treating his girlfriend as a queen and Luke giving her a say in how often Brooke could orgasm. As the extent and depth of the potential humiliation she was agreeing to sunk in, she shed some tears. Tears partly of resentment and anger, no doubt. But her nipples were fully erect. Apparently, despair and resentment were not mutually exclusive with arousal in my complex Brooke. Indeed, this had been true with me as well during many of the unjust humiliations and punishments I had endured after Luke arrived on the scene.
Her eyes still wet with tears, Brooke grabbed my hair gently and guided my head down to her crotch. When I pulled down her panties and started to lick, I discovered that her was pussy was soaking wet. Squeezing her nipples, she moaned and tossed her head back and forth as I worked with my tongue. She screamed a little with the intensity of her orgasm, her face was still wet with tears.
Luke called me the following day, and said, "I'm coming over tomorrow night to negotiate terms. Or, to let you know what they are, at any rate. I'll be there at 7, in time for one of your delicious dinners. I haven't had a good steak in a while. I'm sure the two of you will do your very best to make me feel welcome."
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
When I told Brooke the news, she cried again. But this time they were mostly tears of joy. I cried a little too, tears of relief. Not three months ago, I was celebrating Luke's exile, relishing the thought of no longer being a slave in my own home. Now I was celebrating the prospect of his triumphant return, with a whole new level of enslavement -- for me, and for my lady.
Funny, what life can throw at you.
