Cuckold To Prim

June 12th 10.30

I was panting waiting there. Tied to that scabby armchair, gagged and cock restrained, waiting as She busied herself unseen behind me.

It was a heady mixture of arousal and jealousy that was filling my body like a beautiful, noxious gas. After all it was my idea. I had been used very hard by Her all week anyway. And they were having to pay her- She would finally, gloriously, ascend to Her ambition of making a man pay for Her favours, the affirmation She craved. But I both loved and hated it all at once.

It was still Her hands, Her mind, Her toys. She would still be intimate with them as She knew no other way. As the sun rose above the chestnut trees in the courtyard below and illuminated my heaving chest, I again questioned my sanity in helping this to happen.

Prim was conspicuously quiet as she laid out her torture tools. I knew She could hear my arousal and feel Her own too. She was always excited anyway by a new body to work on, but that fact that Her love would have to hear it all and suffer was all the more satisfying- I knew that. She had chosen her playmate carefully from her stable- good chemistry, submissive and desperate enough to perform in front of them both, and available short term. How much She loved her life, I mused as I smelt her lay out her black latex gloves in a neat line on the bed.

Both hearts pounded as they heard a ring downstairs. I sensed her smooth her black dress, re-arrange her cleavage, put on her game face and went down to fetch him. She never said a word to me. I was alone.

Tied and helpless, my heart began to beat so hard it hurt. I suddenly wanted to break free, tell her to quit this cruel nonsense, to protect what we had savagely built this last week. But then She was back. Talking to another. Actually laughing. Replaying online conversations I knew nothing of. She sounded like a doctor's receptionist as She sat him down and chatted like two friends. He sounded nervous and excited. I felt the rage and the lust build in equal measure. Breathing hard through my nose I flexed my bonds. I heard her pause- She must have known what I was thinking and I imagined Her smiling to Herself.

I heard him count out the money. She seemed to take it hesitatingly and almost reluctantly. Blind to the action, I prayed She took it at all. The payment was my salvation, and Her triumph.

She suggested he got undressed. These words nearly killed me. I heard him comply, in seemingly rapid fashion. I heard Her heels move towards him. Her familiar, appreciative coo as she fondled him, his sigh in return. I felt my precum drip onto my feet. I wanted more but I also wanted it to be over soon. I missed Her already even though she was standing four feet behind me.

I heard him bend over and kneel on the bed. The rest was like trying to decipher a code. I heard her breathing and him grunting appreciatively as she inspected him somehow. Not seeing this or feeling it was an acute agony but also delicious in that I had orchestrated it all- to please her, and to challenge myself.

She talked throughout- politely, brightly like a little girl interviewing her schoolteacher. She told him he had a nice cock, asked if was he enjoying whatever it was She was doing to him, then asked him to grade the severity of the pain as she worked her way through the tool box at her feet. I heard him stammer out a futile complaint a she hit him somewhere fleshy too hard; then again as She tied some unseen part of his body and giggled at the absurdity of her creation. I had been there too- the jealousy fought with my excitement as I imagined his body bent and changing colour as my own had just a day before.

Then a change of pace; quiet at first before a warm appreciative groan from him. I heard the wetness of her mouth on him. I felt the rustle of her dress as she manipulated him. He spoke for the first time- thanking her and complimenting her breasts. I thrashed in the chair, wanting to punch him and kiss Her simultaneously.

I waited to hear Her putting on her cock over her dress. I smelt the lube. I heard his sorry groan as She entered him. I cursed her as She told him to back onto Her cock like the slut he was. She picked up rhythm, the bed rattled, his begging rose higher. I heard her final, awful thrust and his wail of pain. Through my jealous haze I could honestly say I was proud of Her at that point.

Then another pause. They whispered quietly together like lovers. I felt the tears of frustration build. Gauging me as she always does, she was suddenly at my side, in my ear. I could smell his cock on her breath. My own flexed in response. She caressed my shoulder, my back, tested the rigidity of my bound erection.

"Well you seem to be enjoying yourself Russell. Not as much as we are, of course."

She was expert in this pointed sadism. She mixed the personal caress with the 'we' reference she knew would wound me, but excite me. Then she was back. Biting my ear sharply.

"Don't forget. It's only ever been about you." She whispered.

My heart leapt. She had remembered.

She then went about punishing Her victim harder. I was pleased he suffered for his privilege. His pain calibration went from 5 to 10 over the next 20 minutes, and I felt every stroke, matched every cry under my gag. When I heard the whoosh of her cane and her laughter as he buckled under the blows, I would have applauded if I could.

Finished, she sat down and made tea. This was the worst part. He would be kneeling in front of her, striped and naked, wanking for her. She encouraged him with quiet words and insanely kinky blandishments. I felt his heat just behind me and tried to close my ears to his exasperated bellow of emission as he squirted for her. She laughed again as he groaned and whimpered. I knew she knew I would be close to release myself now.

They gaily chatted afterwards like two friends for a while, as his time elapsed. I thought about how different She was with me and with him and there was no difference- except that our love was real and hers with him was an act. For the first time in over an hour I felt safe and secure again.

As I watched him leave across the courtyard below- a middle aged man skipping to his own tune in a bad suit and hair still dishevelled - I craved her attention. She did not disappoint.

I heard her appear behind me. Her sweet breath on my neck. Her kiss on my cheek. Her fingers on my knots.

"Well that was interesting my love wasn't it? Come and lie down with me. I have something special for you."