A Wife's Dar Talent

Author's Note & Trigger Warnings

This is the 9K+ words sixth and penultimate chapter of the novella of the same name. A 30yo upper-class born business woman grows sexually and socially by taking on a hobby and night-job as high class pro-Humiliatrix. She studies and masters her psycho-sexual power over men, and simultaneously brings her own husband down to his knees in the process. Husband who she has roped into administering, and discretely witnessing, her sexual exploits and adventures with her paying lovers.

In this chapter, through encounters with her husband and pro-Domme clients, the evolution of the businesswoman and her relationship with her husband approaches a turning point. The marital encounters feature CFNM, bondage, tease and denial, manipulative marital conversations, cuckold mental torture, inadequacy humiliation, female body worship including cunnilingus, edging, ruining and humiliating hand jobs, service play, animal play, and forced chastity and extended keyholding, among other cruelly rendered femdom schemes.

This chapter also features a HOME-WRECKER PLAY pro-humiliatrix scene. Like the name implies, in homewrecker play a top seeks to force the destruction of a couple, either to replace one half of the couple in the other half's affection, or to simply drive the couple apart out of malice. The top may use the threat of social exposure, financial ruin, involuntary pregnancy, or any of several other such means to achieve this goal. This particular scene also includes elements or RACEPLAY in it. Like the similarly flavored gold-digger play, home-wrecker play is a real-life-like scene commonly played by professional humiliatrixes with their clients.

If any of the above themes is too distasteful to you, please do not read. If all are tolerable, I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 6

When Henry received a text from Jaime in the morning that read.

"Honey, come upstairs. I am waiting for you." He had already been up for six hours of wakeful restlessness.

Six hours agonizing over his wife's latest date, as much as getting used to his latest reduced condition, which seemed to include a doggy collar biometrically locked around his neck. A device that seemed to geld him mentally, as much as the steel cock-cage that he was already getting used to, gelded him physically. A pair of devices that seemed to whisper into his mind, constantly, "you cannot claim your wife. But even if you physically could, you should not hope to anyway. Supplicants do not claim their Goddess. Slaves do not claim their Empress. Your wife is your Goddess-Empress. And you are nothing but her supplicant-slave." It was a fucked up thing to come to believe. But those two little body accessories seemed to be fucking his head such. And yet, they made him feel close to Jaime. Like she always had one hand wrapped tight around his neck, the other hand closed tight upon his manhood. Feelings that were not without their erotic appeal, to put it mildly. And Henry was not even sure he wanted to give them up. Regardless, he was cautiously optimistic from the tone of his wife's message, and he hoped without daring to hope he would find some sexual and emotional comfort from her that day. And in that spirit, he bound up the stairs to meet his summoner.

When he got there his manhood came alive in its cage, as it never failed to do when he first laid eyes on his own wife these days. For this Saturday, Jaime was already half ready to go out for the day, and it was breathtaking. Half ready, because she already was out of any kind of sleep ware, and had a day top on. A long sleeve, but very deep V plunge-line, fitted, shimmery black polo shirt that was as sultry as it was vampy. Smoky eyes and blood red lips makeup that further added to the vampy appeal. And a mid-head ponytail, that though clean and simple, was incredibly flirty and provocative. But despite all that, Jaime was fully naked from the waist down, as she waited sitting back on her knees in the bed waiting for her husband. A seductive but dangerous smile forming in her face as she said.

"Come over here Honey. Lie down, and let me do something for you as we talk."

Henry was beginning to catch on that he could not even trust Jaime being provocative and sexually playful. It seemed like sexual manipulations and some incredibly painful bait and switch schemes were often lurking behind. But when you are man in need and in lust, hope springs eternal. So he started to leak out of his cock-cage as he approached the bed, before Jaime further instructed.

"Everything off first. All of it. Except your little hummingbird cage and doggy collar of course, since only I can take those off for you."

Jaime said with a mischievous smile. Which stung Henry, but did not prevent or slow him from following the instruction. Till Jaime finally added.

"Right here in the middle. Good boy."

As Henry did it all with a fast beating heart, to find himself guided by his wife to stretch both arms and legs out into an "I", and have both arms and legs bound by silk scarfs either high above in the bed's headboard, or down low in the bed's footboard. Henry was not completely immobilized. He was tall enough there was some slack in his binds as he was not pulled taut. But he did have both wrists and both ankles bound tightly together, and his range of movement was little more than a worm's wiggle in the middle of the bed. With his beautiful svelte blonde wife in that vampy makeup and top, his heart beat fast, as she straddled his thighs and unlocked his cock-cage padlock with her thumb.

"You are jumpy Honey! You don't trust your loving wife anymore do you? I will tell you what. I will not promise not to bite, because it is a promise I am not sure I can keep. But I promise I will only bite for your own good. How about that?"

Said Jaime, as she finished taking all the pieces of her husband's cock-cage off, and putting them aside.

"Ok, Jaime. Can you also take the collar off, please?"

"Does it choke you? Strangle you?"

Asked Jaime sitting tall, with her back straight, still on her husbands thighs, right under where his manhood quickly came to full size even without her attention. Just her proximity, and the sight of her, doing the work.

"Not more than a well fitted business tie."

"That is what thought. So no, I will not. One of the benefits of your doggy collar is that, I may still play with you, fuck you even, while you remain bound to me. You like to be bound to me, don't you, dear hubby?"

Asked Jaime playfully, as she sassily snapped her body, her torso. Giving Henry's manhood extra impetus to full size, even if she had not touched it, or glanced at it, for a couple of minutes now. Henry didn't have in him more than a nod.

"Ok then! So Honey, are you having as much fun as I am?"

Asked Jaime as she finally lifted herself a bit off her husband, by opening the angle of her knees, till her vaginal opening was just touching the head of his now fully lubricated and erect manhood. And firmly grabbing said manhood with her right hand, began to tease its head, and her own vaginal lips, with each other.

That felt so good! Thought Henry. But that was so unfair! He also thought. Having this conversation like that was like playing a soccer game on a soccer field tilted towards the away team goal. Without the teams every switching goals.

"Jaime, I am..."

"Having a blast! I am glad you feel like that Honey."

Said Jaime as she continued mopping her vaginal opening with her husband's penis. Even as she added extra motion to it by swinging her hips in a small circle too.

"I have made a decision I will be committing more time to it from now on. And I will also be beginning to cycle through the clients I have liked the most again, even as I continue to meet new ones, build a book of business. It is fun playing with handsome, rich and interesting men."

She added, as Henry felt the shower of sexual-emotional darts beginning to land on his chest. Only anesthetized by the fact that that what Jaime was doing with his penis and her vagina felt so good.

"This coming Thursday I have a date with Patrick again. You remember Patrick, don't you? Deep masculine voice? Delectable big black cock? Yep! I see you remember him."

Said Jaime with a wicked smile. Even as her well lubricated vagina began dripping on her husband's tool. Even as said tool stretched, futilely, to try get inside her.

"And the Tuesday after I will have a date with Edward again. What, you don't remember Edward? Oh yeah! I never told you his name. That week I will be going to Beantown again. Edward is the handsome, suave, athletic, smooth talking professor. You know, the one as comfortable talking to lecture hall full of swooning young nubile students, a full corporate board of movers and shakers, or a TED conference full of disruptive innovators and thought leaders."

Henry visibly twisted and squirmed in pain, but he could not come with a complaint that did not sound insecure, weak. So he held his tongue.

"It will actually be a longer, four hour date too. The first half a romantic dinner date. Then we will retire somewhere more private, for more private play."

This time Henry was truly alarmed. Somehow a dinner date sounded... dangerous to his self-interest, and sordid! Even as Jaime tried to distract Henry into submission by briefly taking his penis head into her vagina, but only his penis head, and only briefly. Till Henry still managed to say.

"Jaime! Why dinner? Are you still keeping all this... professional?!"

"Oh yes I am Honey. I only accepted after reiterating to him, that it would be... professional. He is paying for my time. Though he did request we keep the dinner vanilla. I did not respond to that. What is the fun in vanilla? I have to make sure he has a good time. But more on that latter. The date with Edward is more than a week away at this point."

Now Jaime was using her right hand to tickle her husband's scrotum, even as she still would not let him inside her. Henry was bucking like a horse, trying to score a goal. But it was not working. His Goddess Wife Jaime was in complete control. And cruelly using that control to stay just out of reach.

"Finally, and most importantly, I have a new, a different kind of date this coming Friday. The night right after Patrick. I have been invited to an all-night, elite formal party for four couples. As the date of one very, very powerful gentleman who requires to remain completely and totally anonymous. So I cannot tell you anything about him. The other three gentlemen also demand to remain completely and totally anonymous So I am bound to silence about them too."

Henry did not like the sound of that. It sounded like some dark orgy. So between spasms of sexual pain he asked.

"Jaime! Is that some kind of sex party? An orgy? Some kink orgy even? What about the other women, who are they?"

Which to the first three questions Jaime merely smiled malevolently, though she did say.

"I can reiterate to you it is all night long. Sundown to sunrise, basically. And I can say it is at a very exclusive location. But I cannot tell you were. I can tell you a little about the girls, but I cannot give you their names or confirm or deny their identities. None of the women are wives of our dates. All of the women have very public jobs actually, Actually, all three of the others have much more public jobs than I do. There is an Olympic figure skater, a country-pop diva, and cable network political anchor. All of us are getting paid very, very, very handsomely for the night."

"So is this actual escorting, hooking? Jaime! Please!"

"It is very good fun, is what it is."

"Are you the oldest? Only one married?"

"Actually no. We are all around thirty, and three married, one divorced. But that is enough questions and answers. Now take care of your wife, Henry!"

Jaime snapped as she lifted completely off her husbands manhood, and moved to straddle his face.

"Jaime! I need you! Please! Inside you!"

"Oh Honey, access to my vagina is a privilege, a reward, not a right. Not sure you have earned that reward yet. But you may earn it if you do a good job now."

Said Jaime as she moved to lower her vagina onto her husband's face.

"Please! I am your husband, not one of your clients!"

"Hahahahaha! Oh yeah, that! Thank you for reminding me Honey. I forget. However, the rule now is access to my vagina is also just a privilege, not a right, for my husband. In fact, the price for you, dear Hubby, may be higher than for a client. I have not decided on that yet. But do a good job and I may be favorably inclined to do something for you."

And Jaime finished lowering her naked crotch onto her husband's face. Even as he continued trying to get words out and failed. In any case, Henry was soon intoxicated with the heat and humidity, the scent and the flavor between his wife's thighs. Under her crotch. He was soon licking away, even as his free manhood bobbed impotently behind his wife's back. It leaked and he felt the precum slowly slide down the side of his shaft. Even as he soon lost all awareness of that, as his world became the cozy hearth between his wife's legs. She tasted divine. Jaime was close to mid menstrual cycle, close to ovulation, Henry could tell. Within days probably. As she was wetter and tangier than usual. Henry was developing an addiction to this position too: Directly under his wife's body. The better he did, the more she dripped on him, only heightening his senses with her womanly essence. The way her soft vagina folds rubbed his face, his nose, his lips. The way her clitoris danced with his nose, with his tongue. The place where his face was, was heaven, even as, again, his manhood bobbed lonely and impotently behind his wife. Eventually Jaime came with a strong hard push onto Henry's face. And Henry did his best to collect and hold his breath until Jaime's waves of pleasure were fully past over a minute later.

When Jaime finally relaxed her thighs from around Henry's face, he hoped she would ride him now. But his wife did not move an inch. Instead she reached back with one of her hands as Henry began to protest. A protest that was silenced by the svelte blonde on his face, who grabbed him fully in hand, and began to pump. One, two, three pumps before letting go, watching her Husband spend himself weakly and wastefully into thin air. Sprouting low like an old, broken fountain. Hitting Jaime in the back with just a drop or two, almost nothing at all. Giving Henry only the relief of emptying his prostate, his testes some. But by no means the full relief of an orgasm.

As Henry began to break into muffled quiet sobs, Jaime spun on his face without getting off it, faced his feet. Picked up the steel cock-cage and biometric padlock. Assembled the full device on her husband's manhood. Before setting his limbs free, finally getting off his face, and strutting away to finish getting dressed and get on with their day.

*****

Henry did the best he could to collect himself and pull it together, even though he was still hot and bothered and feeling woozy from his cruel Saturday morning tryst with his wife. He showered and got dressed, and begged his wife one more time for the following.

"Jaime. Can you take the collar off at least please? I cannot go out like this."

"Yes you can!"

Jaime answered, now in a smart casual pair of fitted camel-color cotton slacks that were cut very similar to a pair of jeans, and a pair of four inch black pumps. Then she added.

"It is autumn and you are an eccentric professor. You have suddenly developed a dandy new fashion style that features constant neckerchiefs. You can pull it off without batting an eye, and I can stay wet between the legs all day, knowing you are being a good boy and wearing my locked collar, wherever you go, whatever you do."

Before giving him a kiss on the lips, and pushing her pelvis against his caged manhood, before finally adding.

"Let's go!"

With a smile. While adrenaline began to pump through her husband's veins, in resigned but intense fear that he could be exposed as his wife's bitch, her lapdog, any second from now on."

Saturday, and then Sunday, were hard. But the nights were harder. Sleeping in bed with his wife while he remained cock-caged and collared was a whole other level of torture. It was eight hours of blue balls and constant leaking, to look at, to feel her exquisite body so close. So vulnerable in her sleep even. Though he could not claim her, he could not even rape her, if his life depended on it. She was so close yet so out of reach. And he thought, whatever game Jaime was playing, this was going too far. Their partnership, their equality, if there ever was one, was slipping rapidly out of reach. The memory of it seemed to be slipping out of his mind for sure. Even when she was friendly, and kind. She still had his dick in a cage and his neck in a collar, and there was nothing friendly, nor kind, about that.

Come Tuesday, like a relapsing alcoholic, Henry felt no choice but to watch Goddess Kiersten's date with the congressman, as he waited for her to come home from work.

Kiersten looked stunning in that bipolar conservative-and-slutty high-powered aide getup. The corset like white button shirt, the very, very tight pencil skirt, the just below the knee black leather four inch stiletto boots. And for the cream on top, the severe bun, high in her head, and the nerdy-sexy glasses on her face. She had one hand, the left, on her date's right thigh. The other, the right, between his thighs, caressing, tickling, fondling his balls through his slacks.

"Congressman, You truly are unique. Few men have the guts, the balls, to speak truth to power and to the people like you do. We need true patriots, there are so few true patriots anymore. But you are one, Congressman. And that makes me want to blow you, fuck you, bend over for you if you like it that way too. Women should reward you for the sacrifices you make for all of us. I sure as hell will do my part, and reward you myself."

Said Ms. Kiersten as she whispered in her client's ear between licks and playful bites of his earlobes.

Henry considered Goddess Kiersten was turning in a total slut, as well as a complete bitch. But watching that slut was making his penis leak profusely these days. And Henry could just not stop the habit.

A few minutes later Henry's wife's date had his pants around his ankles, his shirt around his wrists. Both ankles and wrists shackled behind his back as well. And worst of all, he was on his knees with his manhood trapped on the wrong end of a pillory, a clamp, a vice. Empress Kiersten now stood tall above him, looking down at him with scorn, rubbing torturous menthol cream over every nook and cranny, every crevice of his manhood. Even down his urethral opening, which she held apart with an index finger and a thumb.

"Mark, you are a man that is better suited for psychotherapy than higher office. You are so weak, and have so many traumas, a roadkill chipmunk would probably make a better leader of the free world. Look at you! Brought to your knees, by a woman wielding little more than a tight skirt and a smile. Is that a man we can trust with the nuclear launch codes? Heck, is that a man we can trust to drive the neighborhood garbage truck? In fact, you are more suited to go into the hopper of that garbage truck, get your filthy face and weak mind out of public life!"

Henry still did not understand the dark magic that made his wife so hot when she was raining down judgement and scorn on a man like that. Or look so hot no matter what in the flesh, like she did when she walked home from work. Or look so hot as she did when half an hour after she retired to freshen up, she texted her husband to summon him thus.

"Henry, come upstairs. I have something to show you. And something to ask of you."