AUTHOR'S NOTE: Fantasy fiction of a married couple and their newfound submission to a younger girl. Probably the last of the series. Thanks to all who stayed with the series, and to all my readers. Apologies for the delay in getting chapter three posted. I submitted it Jan 6. The Lit crew rejected it for a reason that didn't actually exist. I think maybe they got it mixed up with another story. So I had to resubmit.
If this is your first read in the series, it might stand alone, but you might want to check out 1-3 for the background.
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The next morning we went to see Rosie, and spent the weekend with her, going shopping, dining, meeting her friends, her regular friends. We did not see Desiree anymore that weekend, but the events of the first night had altered my relationship with my wife again. For the months after the first incident, at our house, when my wife first submitted to her, we had not spoken, regarding each other politely in front of our daughter and in public, but not communicating otherwise. Alone with Rosie for the two days we were compelled to converse, and it seemed that the extreme events of the recent night with Desiree had broken down a barrier between us. We no longer forced our conversation. Mentally and emotionally, we were connected, bonded together.
I relished the time with my daughter, although several times during the weekend I had flashes of the threat Desiree had made, of turning her into a willing sub like her mother, and each time I silently committed that I would never allow that to happen, no matter what unspeakable acts I needed to commit. But further inside I knew that there was no danger of turning against Our Mistress. Unwilling and resistant at first, I had experienced the power of control as well as being controlled, and I recognized my desire to continue in that vein.
Performing the humiliating sexual acts in front of her group of friends had been oddly liberating. I had survived, and allowed myself to enjoy being told what to do, and to enjoy doing it. I began to understand my wife's willingness to submit, but still struggled with her need to be for it. Then later, commanding my wife to do things had been empowering, feeding my ego and my libido. I wanted more of both, and knew that I would never disobey Desiree again.
Late Sunday afternoon we said goodbye to Rosie and got back in the car to begin the long ride home. With rest stops we were looking at eight or nine hours on the road. On the way up, things had been tense between us, but they seemed more relaxed as we got on the highway and headed for home. We spent the first twenty miles or so in silence, but without the tension that had sat like a third passenger on the way up, threatening to tear us apart. Instead we each were lost in our own thoughts, mulling over what had happened, and how we felt about it.
Monica broke the silence first. She had been sitting against the door, gazing dreamily out the window, and then suddenly turned and reached to me, resting her hand on my leg. "I love you," she said, and any remaining animosity evaporated.
I put my hand over hers. "I love you, too, Mon." I told her. And I meant it, despite my memory of the feelings I'd had when I forced her to shove her tongue up my ass. Those feelings still existed; I still held her responsible for getting us into this situation, but I was less hostile about it. My submission to Desiree's commands had created a bond between us; we had shared the experience of giving ourselves over to someone else. And something about surrendering to my baser instincts with my wife had repaired and cemented the love I felt for her. And Our Mistress had again commanded me to control her, to use her in Desiree's absence. And I knew that I would, as much as I recognized that I wanted to, and that Monica needed and desired me to use her that way.
Our profession of our love for each other had right-set our relationship to each other. Those simple words, spoken in honesty, said so much more, as they always had since before we were married. They said we accepted each other, would do for each other completely, not halfway but all the way. We each would live for the other, even to the exclusion of ourselves, safe and confident that neither would request that of the other.
Our relationship had changed, but it was still love that I felt. It would be expressed differently from now on, but it was love, just the same. Another few minutes of silence went by.
"Thank you," she said.
"For what?"
"For going along. For joining in, for not being mad." She paused. "For everything. It...means a lot to me."
"I really didn't have much choice," I told her. I related the story of the video, and the threat of what could happen to Rosie. I told her that I would never let that happen, and would do whatever I needed to prevent it. There was silence again as the news settled in.
"Can I ask you something?" she asked after a while, turning in her seat, and smiling nervously.
"Of course," I answered, and again, a simple exchange let us know that we were okay, not just as individuals, but as a couple again.
"Was that all? Was it just the threat?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, it's just that you, uh-m, well, you seemed...not forced." I waited, sensing there was more. "You seemed to be, well...kind of enjoying yourself?" she said, he voice rising in question as she finished the sentence.
"You mean at the end? Yeah, I admit, I liked that."
"No. Before. All of it, really. You seemed, I don't know, different. Like you liked what she made you do, like it excited you."
"I think you saw how hard I was."
"Yes, who could miss that," she quipped, and giggled a little. I laughed with her. "But that's not what I mean. I knew you were aroused. But you felt more, uh-m, enthusiastic, I guess is the word." She paused. "More into it, when you were, uh-m, doing it."
"You mean when I sucked another man's cum off your dildo, and licked it out of your pussy?" I stated boldly, seeing no need for the dainty word dance.
"Three, actually, but yeah, that."
"Three?"
"Yes, three of them came in my pussy," she said, then added, just as matter-of-factly, "The fourth one came in my ass."
There was silence again while I digested that, although it really came as no surprise, having seen the video. She had always avoided anything anal, and I had never really tried. I guessed that had changed, now.
"Well, truth be told, yes. It's weird, you know? She made me watch you on video letting those guys fuck you in your mouth and pussy, and then your pussy and ass," I explained. "That got me aroused, even though my brain was telling me it was wrong, and vile." I chuckled. "Although YOU seemed to be enjoying yourself!" She laughed lightly. "But then she walked me up the stairs with my dick out, past people, and made me meet her friends." I told her about thanking them, and tried to describe the humiliation and shame, and then seeing her, giving the people a show, watching her, having them watch me, knowing I was her husband. "It kind of got to me, being in that position; I got excited being humiliated. So by the time she made me suck the cum off your dildo, I WANTED to do it." I stopped, thinking for a second. "Does that make sense?"
