"We need to talk, Stephen," John was saying into the phone.
"I'm not sure that we do," Stephen replied.
"Stephen, I've already talked to Melanie, she's down for it."
What John was not telling him was that Melanie and he talked every day. At this point it was a ritual that the two of them enjoyed, they had become friends. John would demand to know if Melanie had provided Stephen with any sexual satisfaction, and she would reply that she hadn't. They would talk about other subjects, and John would subtly reinforce his control over her in ways, having her perform simple tasks for him, things like that.
Not that she minded: she was growing to love the satisfaction she got by completing an assignment from John. And she wasn't resisting his control over her.
John had forbidden her to orgasm without his express permission. But he would make her wet with his words every day, tell her what a good girl she was being, how hard she made his cock. He had made her email him some photographs that were very specific in nature. He explained that her obedience to his words was more sexy than any other thing, and he would sometimes look at them and pull on his cock until he came, then tell her thank you and hang up.
This never failed to make her pussy a panty soaking mess. But she obeyed, and didn't cum.
And when she was allowed to beg and cum, she did.
"We'll all talk, Stephen. Get everything out in the open. OK?"
Stephen sighed. "OK, John. We can talk. Friday it is."
John laid back, and pulled his shorts down. His heavy cock slapped hard against his belly. He gripped it with his hands, and pulled on it.
I already have the wife, he thought. Soon I'll have the husband. Two little slaves for me.
John's cock head flushed to a dark purple, the skin pulled taut as he stroked himself.
The bastard has no idea how I'm going to humiliate him, John was thinking, as he began to shoot thick streams of semen all over his hairy belly. Humiliate him for making me work for it.
On Friday, John arrived, and was invited in. He took a seat while Stephen and Melanie sat together on the couch. Nobody was saying anything.
John asked if they had any beer, and Stephen was surprised to see Melanie pop up and get him one. She yelled from the kitchen did he want a glass with that. He didn't.
And so she brought him a Heineken, and sat back down. John already knew that it would be a Heineken.
Stephen felt a little differently about the beer. He'd been seeing it in his refrigerator for some time now, and each time he did he felt a little funny. He didn't drink it... he preferred wine... and he didn't throw it away.
He just felt a little funny when he saw it in there.
"So, Stephen, thanks for having me over."
"Sure, John. Look, about the other day..."
But John held up a hand.
"Here's the thing, Stephen. I want you. I want the both of you. I want to have complete control over the both of you."
Stephen was dumbfounded. It was a one time thing... never to happen again. Right? Could John really be saying this? Stephen looked to his wife, but she was just sitting there, listening as if this was normal, her hands folded in her lap. When she did look to her husband, she smiled and nodded reassuringly. What did that mean?
