My Wife's New Boss

Note: This is the first of a six-part story of a loving and loyal wife who succumbs to the hopelessly irresistible advances of her desirable new boss. It is also the story of her husband, who is forced to watch it all unfold before being reluctantly paired up with another man for the first time. It involves themes related to marriage, forced cuckoldry, manipulation, seduction, infidelity, blackmail, humiliation, ovulation, domination, and betrayal. Part 5 and Part 6 include scenes depicting passionate consensual heterosexual sex. It also includes allusions to impending bisexual experimentation (not depicted).

It was all my fault. I realize that now, though of course it doesn't make me feel any better. It doesn't take the sting out of it as I watch my beautiful wife, who I love more than anything in the world, getting fucked by another man in the bedroom next door - and loving every minute of it, by the looks of it.

I wish I didn't, but I can see everything on the large TV in front of me, which is hooked up to a hidden camera that is perfectly positioned so as to leave nothing to the imagination. I can't shut it off because it is encased in plexiglass and Brad took the only remote control with him, wanting to force me to witness Nick's newest sexual conquest as he indoctrinates my wife as his eager new fucktoy. Even if I could turn it off, though, I'm not sure I'd be able to. I think morbid curiosity would get the better of me, or else it would be like touching a sore tooth just to make sure it still hurts.

And so I just stand there, watching helplessly, seeing everything. I can see Heather sprawled out on her back completely naked with her legs spread apart in the air around Nick's big, muscular body. I can see his perfectly shaped ass tightening and flexing as he drives his eight-inch cock into her. I can see Heather's hair tossed wildly about the pillow and her pretty face contorted by pleasure. I can see her luscious nude breasts bouncing helplessly and spiritedly with every thrust, until Nick reaches down and starts squeezing and manhandling them like they were his to do with as he pleases (which, then again, I suppose now they are). At the moment, I can also see Heather's eyes as she gazes into his with an expression of pure love and desire - the way she used to look at me.

I can hear everything, too, the painful symphony of their lovemaking. I can hear their lustful breathing and the sound of their hands gliding along each other's skin as they enjoy the contours of the other's body. I can hear the smacking of their lips after Heather runs her hand through Nick's hair and pulls him in to kiss her again as he continues to thrust. I can hear the distinct rhythmic slapping sound of copulation, their pelvises colliding as Nick pumps away steadily at her body. And of course I can hear Heather's boundless sounds of pleasure - every giggle and moan and squeal of delight. I had no idea she could moan and scream that way - I never knew she had it in her.

But as bad as all this is, the worst is knowing what's coming - knowing that it's going to be my turn soon. Nick's brother, Brad, is coming back. Brad, whose six-foot-four-inch 250-pound body is almost pure muscle, with more strength in one arm than I have in my entire body, will be returning eventually. "And a bet's a bet," Brad said menacingly, taunting me as he left the room 15 minutes ago, the door locking behind him. "Whatever she does with Nick - you're going to do with me." I believe he means it, too. As Nick explained earlier, there's nothing Brad loves more than sexually dominating straight guys. Never in my life had I ever imagined I would end up in bed with another man, yet here I am, about to become

intimately

acquainted with Brad.

How did it come to this? How did I find myself locked in this bedroom watching my wife throw three years of marriage away - on our wedding anniversary no less - as she gives in to her desires and joyfully surrenders her body to Nick? How did I find myself watching Nick transform my wife into his eager submissive sex slave, even though she knew full well that Brad would set out to take me for his own if she allowed it to happen? The events of the last few weeks begin replaying in my mind and I am once again reminded - this is all my fault.

Heather was - and I guess she still is and always will be - the love of my life. We had been together for five years, married for nearly three. She was a good woman and an amazing wife, and we had what I would have described as an above-average marriage. I had always considered myself very lucky to have her and thought she was a bit out of my league. She is very pretty with long brown hair and a very nice body - not too skinny, not too heavy, with perfect feminine proportions and flawless skin. She is also sweet, fun to be around, down to Earth, low maintenance, and loyal. At least, she

had

been loyal. She was raised by a very traditional, conservative, religious family, and she was born to be a wife. Her lifelong aspiration - and the aspiration her family had for her - was to be a stay-at-home mom wholly devoted to serving and caring for her husband and children. And we could have had that if I hadn't been so selfish.

You see, after nearly three years of marriage, Heather really wanted to start a family and get pregnant. Who could blame her? For one thing, she wasn't getting any younger (we had both just turned 27). Her younger sister and several cousins and friends all had babies, which she saw often. This made her even more baby crazy than she was hard-wired to be by her feminine biology and maternally primed hormones. It was what she wanted more than anything else in the world, and it was all her family wanted for her, too.

She also wanted to stop having to work and get to be a full-time housewife. After all, her younger sister got to stop working right away after marrying her well-off husband, even though she wouldn't give birth to their baby for another 18 months. I had been reminded of this all too often. I had also been reminded about how wonderful it would be when Heather didn't have to work anymore. She would be able to bring me coffee every morning, make me breakfast, iron my shirts, pack my lunch, and then see me off to work with a kiss. She'd spend the whole day cleaning and doing laundry and running all the errands, and she'd have the apartment spotless and comfortable with a delicious dinner ready for me on the table when I returned home. To sweeten the deal, she threw in an extra little bonus for good measure. "You can spend all day deciding what you'd like me to be wearing for you when you come home - assuming, that is, you want me to be wearing anything at all." As tempting as that was - and

boy

was that tempting - I didn't take the bait.

It's not that I didn't want to have children or for her to get to stay home like she wanted to, but I just felt like we couldn't afford it yet. I didn't make very much money. I had a job that I loved, but it didn't pay that well. Heather and her family were constantly on my case about it, encouraging me to get a better-paying job that could actually support a family. Heather would send me advertisements for jobs that I was well qualified for which paid two or three times what I was making now, but I kept coming up with excuses as to why it wasn't a good fit for me. Instead, I kept insisting we just needed to continue saving money - enough at least to cover the down payment on a house.

If I was being honest, though, there was another reason I didn't want to have a baby yet. I was also well aware of how a married couple's sex life goes to shit after having kids, and I wasn't in a hurry for that to happen. Not that our sex life was all that great to begin with these days. It wasn't anything like it used to be. We had some fun when we were dating and through the first two years of our marriage. A year or so ago, though, something started to change and our sex life went to shit on its own. Nowadays, Heather would turn me down far more often than not and I'd be lucky to get laid once a week, twice if the stars aligned (which was far less frequently than I wanted it). And the sex we

did

have was more lackluster than ever - duty sex, I think would be an accurate description. She was clearly willing to fulfill what she saw as her marital obligation as a Christian woman, but that only went so far.

It became a common topic of argument between us. She would come up with every excuse she could think of as to why she was turning me down most days, and I would get frustrated, and we'd end up bickering about it. I expected our sex lives to wane after a time, but not this much, and not this soon. I blamed her, though now I understand what was really going on. She was losing respect for me because of my reluctance to man up, get a better job, and get her pregnant. Her family didn't help things, either - they didn't exactly hide that they felt the same way about it. All that meant a loss of attraction, and with it, any enthusiasm she might have had about having sex with me.

Despite all this, though, we still got along very well and rarely ever fought. If things had been allowed to continue the way they were going, I would have finally relented and given her what she wanted within a year or two, and I bet things would have improved between us. But then came the day she abruptly quit her job which she had for more than five years. I guess her boss had said something that offended her, and she submitted her letter of resignation that very day with nothing lined up to replace it. I didn't think what he said was a big deal - certainly not a good enough reason to quit like that with no other job prospects - but the damage had been done before I even knew anything had happened.

And conveniently, just like that, she got what she wanted - Heather got to be a full-time housewife, at least for a time. She was now living the life she had always wanted to live, the life her younger sister got after she was married. But, for me, it wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Heather was bringing me coffee and making me breakfast and ironing my shirts and packing my lunch and seeing me off to work with a kiss, just like she said she would, but this is as far as it went. Very little housework was getting done and she'd rarely have dinner ready when I got home, and the most exciting thing she'd be wearing would be a bulky T-shirt and sweatpants. It was pretty obvious that she went right back to sleep as soon as I left for work, and she seemed to be spending most afternoons at her sister's house drinking wine and cooing at her baby and complaining about me because I was pressuring her to get a new job.

I obviously wanted Heather to go back to work. It was such a waste having her home, I thought. We simply couldn't afford it. She claimed to be looking for a new job, but she didn't seem to be putting much effort into it. Why would she? She was finally living the life she had always wanted. I was getting increasingly impatient with her, and I finally decided to take matters into my own hands and started looking for job opportunities for her.

And that's how I brought him into our lives - Nick Willard, the man destined to take my wife as his lover, and then rub my face in it in the most extreme way possible.

It had been four weeks since Heather quit her job. I found what seemed like the perfect opportunity for her: a secretary position for a local law firm. For one thing, it paid extremely well. She would be making more than she had been making before - in fact, she'd be making almost as much money as I was making. It was near the apartment, too, and it seemed like the workload would be pretty easy - just clerical work like taking phone calls and filing.

Little did I know the type of man Nick Willard was and what he was

really

looking for. He wasn't looking for a secretary, not really. As an independent attorney who only worked a small number of very high-profile - and exceedingly lucrative - cases, Nick was perfectly capable of getting by on his own. No, Nick didn't need a secretary. What Nick really needed was his own personal slutty office sex slave.

You see, Nick Willard was a man of almost limitless sexual appetites with a monstrous libido. He really enjoyed fucking women. And - through some freakish genetic abnormality that allowed his body to regenerate semen almost as fast as it left his body - there seemed to be no limit to how many times he could get off in a given day, so he liked to have sex a

lot

. He could also be described by virtually every straight woman as the most desirable man they had ever encountered in their lives, so it wasn't exactly difficult for him to get laid. He was an extremely well-connected and well-respected attorney with a reputation for ruthlessness, and he knew just about everyone of any importance in the city - the type of guy who could get a table at the most expensive restaurants without a reservation and have half the dining room coming over to greet him and shake his hand. He was also rich and only ever wore the very best clothes and accessories and often traveled by limousine and even on his own private jet. And he was tall, extremely fit and well-built, exceedingly handsome, utterly charming and charismatic, and brimming with well-earned confidence.

Not only that, but Nick Willard had long ago mastered the art of pleasuring a woman. He loved dominating women more than anything else in the world, and he found there was no more surefire way to govern a woman's heart, soul, and body than by pleasuring her in such a way that only he could deliver. He had literally fucked hundreds of women over the course of his lifetime, learning from each one until his skills could no longer be improved. His prowess as a lover were a thing of legend - in certain demographics, there were few women in the entire metropolitan area who hadn't heard the intriguing rumors.

All this is to say: Nick was every woman's wet dream come true. He had no trouble finding women to fuck in the evenings and on weekends, as he had a virtually endless array of options. It was during the workday that he found himself frustrated. He wanted to fuck all day, too, but his prospects were limited at the office. Out of necessity, he would sleep with certain women in his building - mainly secretaries for other lawyers and firms that occupied the office tower - but he didn't like to do this if he could avoid it. Workplace relationships like these tended to get messy and complicated, especially since women tended to become quite attached to him and fiercely competitive with one another for his attention. Sure, he could have hired a professional to fulfill this role - he certainly could afford to have a full-time prostitute on staff - but he had never paid for sex in his entire life and wasn't about to start now. Plus, it would have taken all the fun out of it.

And so his ultimate goal was to hire a woman as his secretary and then convert her wholly voluntarily into the ultimate submissive sexual servant - someone he could fuck any time he wanted during the day, someone who would happily bend over for him or suck his dick on command, for no other reason than she wants to and is desperate to please him. He wasn't looking for just any woman, though. He was looking for the perfect woman - at least, the perfect woman for him. Sure, he wanted a woman who was pretty enough and had a nice enough body, but looks weren't the only thing that mattered to him. What he was mainly after was a woman who was intelligent and fun to be around and made good company. That was important to him. Although he didn't mind sleeping with boring idiots, this was going to be someone he'd be spending a lot of time with, and he wanted her to be entertaining and engaging, someone he clicked with well. He also wanted a traditional, conservative woman, since they aligned with his political viewpoints. Also, these tended to be the most eagerly submissive, and he

really

liked submissive women - the more submissive, the better.

Most importantly, he wanted a married woman. He

loved

fucking married women. He found married women to be very sexually experienced, but also starved for the kind of romance and passion only a new man like him could deliver. This made them grateful for his cock, and he loved it when a woman was grateful for his cock. Married women also tended to be the easiest to break things off with once he inevitably got bored of them, since they had the most to lose. And, if they were married, it meant they wouldn't look to him for the more unpleasant and inconvenient aspects of a relationship, like emotional intimacy or domestic companionship, which Nick had no interest in. That was their husband's job, while Nick's job was just to enjoy their bodies and fuck them the way these women craved, the way they couldn't bring themselves to let their husbands fuck them.

Lastly, nothing satisfied Nick more than knowing he was sexually conquering another man's wife. He loved knowing that he was seeing a side of them their husbands so desperately wanted to see but never could, a side of them their husbands probably didn't even know existed. He also loved to know he was forever leaving his mark on their wives - knowing they would fantasize about him and pine over him for the rest of their lives, and that they would forever lament the fact that their husband could never come close to measuring up to him.

Pretty, good body, conservative, fun to be around, married - all this meant that Heather was

exactly

Nick's type. And, since he thoroughly vetted every woman who applied, and since everyone nowadays leaves behind a trail of information and photographs on the internet, he was going to realize this himself. And then, once he set her in his sights, her fate would be sealed. He was absolutely confident of that. Nick had yet to encounter a woman who could resist him for more than a few days. Such was his desirability and his uncanny understanding of the female mind and his inhuman ability to manipulate women that he had never failed to seduce one, married or unmarried. Nick recognized that, in many ways, women are slaves to their desires far more than men, especially with certain types of men and at certain times during their reproductive cycle, and even the most loyal of wives would succumb to his strategic, carefully planned advances. And all it ever took was one single time, one single sexual encounter, and he would give them an experience beyond anything they had ever thought possible, and they would be hopelessly addicted to his cock for as long as he wanted them.

After that, she would be his to do with as he pleases, and she would do

anything

for him. She would happily adhere to his dress code - pretty dresses or skirts, three- or four-inch heels, and sexy lingerie were all, of course, mandatory. She would excitedly answer his summons any time he paged her, promptly reporting to him at his desk and then dropping to her knees in front of him to suck his dick and drain his balls. She would enthusiastically provide his daily full-body massage (scheduled each day from 12 to 1 p.m.) and always finish with a nice, slow, sensuous hand job. Then he would watch as she licked his cum off his body,

and

off her hand (she would always have to swallow, of course, no matter what). Occasionally, when the mood struck him, he'd have her dance and strip for him, or else he'd lock the outer office and have her prance around all day in something fun like a sexy French maid uniform or exotic lingerie. And whenever he wanted, he would go out to fetch her and lead her by the hand into his office and then fuck her any way he desires. Sometimes, he would bend her over his desk or conference table for a quickie; other times, they would take it slow and make it last, spread out naked on his conveniently located pull-out sofa. From time to time, he'd also make her hand over her panties when she arrived at the office, confiscating them for the day, a harbinger of the fucking that's to come. Stored in his closet was a whole arsenal to add to his enjoyment - spreader bars, whips, leashes, restraints, even a cage and a specially designed bench meant for punishments (he was going to love it when she was late getting to the office).