Part 4 Drew Makes a Radical Choice
Author's Note: this is a story of consenting adults; no characters under the age of 25 and despite the bondage and S&M, no one is forced into anything against their will.
Though I thought of her often, I missed my wife, Flora, less and less. Two and a half months had passed since that fateful night, when my best friend demonstrated, she belonged to him, and we had still not spoken. In my mind, I'd hear her disparaging tone on the pre-bukkake video, and it hurt. Master Magnus texted he planned to "move into" the house near mine, at the end of the following week. I didn't really know how to feel about it. He had conditioned me to think of her as his whore; it was now hard to think of her as my wife.
My curated Jayden experience was limited. Master Magnus had let me have him only twice in the month and half or so, since Jay had popped my cherry. Both times were great, but not quite as satisfying as the first. Magnus limited our time to one hour. His cock was out and in me practically from the moment I opened the door until he left. We used up every minute to the last in-coitus. The sex while amazing felt obviously constricted.
The house arrangements turned out very different from originally proposed. He decided to take his condo off the market. He would install his slut in the house around the corner from me, and come out on weekends occasionally, or as the mood struck him. Flora and I would be free to meet, as long as we agreed not to have sexual contact—which, at this point, neither of us wanted from each other.
I was nervous about this development and what it might mean, but I thought it best to leave it to Master's providence. The movers arrived on Thursday, unpacked and arranged the furniture; and the couple would come after work Friday evening. We were to "celebrate" together: dinner from a swanky downtown restaurant, followed by other "entertainments."
Dinner was just the three of us, but Jayden would join us for drinks after. I guess part of the "entertainments." We had "private matters" to discuss during the dinner, he said, to explain why Jayden would be joining us later.
He texted when they arrived; I was touching up my makeup. After almost two months of aggressive hormone therapy. I could not yet call what was happening on my chest "breasts," but something was definitely developing there. And my testicles and clitty, had thankfully shrunk. I was no longer having erections, it would spasm when I got excited, but I no longer had pain from the cage, which was now a considerably looser fit.
I was feeling very sexy as a woman and looking forward to the first round of surgical interventions still a few weeks away. My libido had calmed some, since that first night with Jayden, which tweaked my clitty. When I thought about it, it was like experiencing it for the first time, and knowing I would get it again made it easier to bear the wait. I was still horny, despite the hormones; it had been a while, but the desperation, the urgency, was lessened.
At their door with a nice bottle of wine, I held it out to... his slut, who opened the door; she pointed me inside, without much greeting. She dressed... like a hooker. She wore:
a white blouse with red polka dots, a collar and lapels, prominently featuring her big fat tits and tied below revealing most of her midriff. The skirt might have been six inches long, ending at the point where her visible thong created a cameltoe in the front. Her ass cheeks hung just below the hem, when she stood up straight. With the slightest bend, her prodigious ass became visible, divided in half by the thong. Emblazoned in red on her right asscheek were the words: "Nasty Ass Bukkake Bitch!" The rim of a buttplug just visible; the thong holding it in place.
She had on white mid-thigh hooker boots, with impossibly high heels. Having always worn flats, she was still shaky in the heels. Makeup matched clothes: bright crimson lipstick, dramatic eye makeup. Her lips, always rather thin, were pumped up, like a blow-up doll.
We sat to dinner, which she heated and struggled served, bringing things in balancing on those impossible heels, but managed it and sat with us. Master Magnus led the conversation as we ate, making small talk in familiar tones. He asked after my work. And I said things were relatively quiet. He asked about her work, and she said laconically, it had been busy. It was clear she didn't want to be there; or more accurately... she did not want to be there with me. He gave a her a sharp look, and she smiled insincerely.
"Whore... the little cuck sissy faggot has a boyfriend. Who'll join us later."
She had seemed not quite present—miles away—but her curiosity was obviously piqued at the comment. I realized he had not said anything to her about anything.
"Hmmm, really?"
"Yes, little sissy, tell my whore about your new beau!"
"Uhm... ermm, I don't know if I'd call him that, Sir. His name is Jayden, he's 25, tall, dark and gorgeous, with a fabulous cock!" I said pointedly, her Botoxed lips agape.
"How did you meet this... new beau, cucky faggot?" He asked, dripping sarcasm and disdain.
"He was my masseur at the transcenter, where I go for gender affirming treatment."
"Uuurphn, uhmm." She responded like a cartoon character, struck dumb, and her whole façade seemed to fall away. "Really...??" She asked incredulously.
"Yes, I'm scheduled to have my first surgery in four weeks."
"So, you are seriously doing this?" For a flash, her voice sounded like the Flora I knew.
"Oh, Flora... I am sorry. All these years I had no idea. I never really noticed anything different about... but I realize now, I was miserable as a man, though I didn't really know it. I worked so hard to fit into my place in the world that I didn't notice it wasn't place at all. I can't really tell you how much happier I am now, and how sorry I am for you for not knowing."
