Home Not Quite Alone

Reading notes:

1. This is a work of almost total fiction. Apart from myself and my cuckold, all characters who appear in this tale are either figments of my imagination or exaggerated caricatures of real people.

2. The characters Mari, Les and Christine are based on real life neighbours of mine. Not one of them is, as far as I know, involved in the lifestyle in which I have placed them in this story. But regular readers of my work will know of my fondness for putting non-lifestyle people into typical every day (for lovers of kink, anyway) scenarios.

3. All characters in this story are aged eighteen or older, and all sexual activity is consensual.

4. Please consider using the scoring system, and leave a comment after reading. All authors appreciate their readers' views. Thank you.

"And you're sure that this isn't going to be too much of an imposition?"

I sighed.

"How many times, Mari?" I asked my sister. "I'm thrilled that you've decided to take the plunge and get yourself bred. If what you've told me is true, and this institution in America can guarantee that you'll leave there with a black baby in your belly, what stronger signal can you send to people that you're a Hot Wife and that you've had another man's baby when the time comes for her or him to be born?"

"I wish you'd come with me, Olwen" replied my sister plaintively. "You're still young enough to conceive, you know."

"No thank you very much. Richard and I are perfectly happy as Hot Wife and cuckold. We don't want any mewling, puking sprogs upsetting our lifestyle. It's alright for you. Les can stay home and bring up the baby, just as he did with Christine. Both Richard and I enjoy our work, and the money it brings in to allow us to live the sort of lifestyle we adore."

My sister and I chatted for a few more moments, and then, having made the final arrangements for my niece to come and stay with us, we rang off. I looked at my cuckold, Richard, who had just come into the conservatory with an after-work cup of tea for us both.

"Mari's getting cold feet, I think," I said, smiling my thanks as he passed me my tea. "But she'll go through with it, I'm sure. Christine is a darling, but she was adopted. I think Mari wants to prove to herself that she really is a Hot Wife. She wants to be bred, and by a black man. She's such an exhibitionist!"

It's lucky that Les is so well off," replied Richard. "It's all very well that place in America giving their clients a copper bottomed guarantee that no-one leaves the institution until they are guaranteed to be carrying a black baby. But have you seen their fees? They're bloody extortionate!"

I laughed at my cuckold's indignation. Richard and I both earn extremely good salaries, me as a deputy head teacher, and Richard as the CEO of his own civil engineering firm. But we're as poor as church mice compared to my sister and brother-in-law.

"Christine is being dropped off here tomorrow morning," I reminded Richard. "I need you to be out of the house when she arrives. I want to see just how much of the situation at home Christine knows before I introduce her to our domestic set-up."

"Mari knows you're going to tell her about our lifestyle, doesn't she?" asked Richard anxiously.

"Yes, cucky," I laughed. "My darling sister is well aware of your love of being humiliated. She's perfectly happy for me to introduce my niece to the art of using and abusing a submissive cuckold!"

"Well it's Saturday tomorrow," Richard said with a grin. "Saturday's shopping day. We're going to need to get more food in than usual. Do you know if Christine has any special dietary needs?"

"No, she's a perfectly normal omnivore, just like you and me," I replied, with a grin on my face.

"You mentioned Saturday being shopping day? Did you forget what else happens on a Saturday?"

Richard blushed, and then squirmed in discomfort. I knew exactly the reason for his moment of agony. I waited for his reply.

"No, dear, of course I didn't forget," he said eagerly. "Saturday is also milking day! Are you going to let Christine watch me being milked?"

We'll see," I replied, putting down my empty cup on the low coffee table we keep in the conservatory. It holds all manner of useful things, including the latest copy of an excellent contact magazine that I often use to find one night stand boyfriends when the need arises.

I reached for my pipe and my lighter which were both also on the coffee table. Slipping the long, dainty stem between my lips, I fired my lighter up and lit my pipe.

Richard sighed with contentment, and then winced again. He does love to watch me smoke, but given that I keep him in almost permanent chastity, anything that gives him stimulation, such as seeing me with a pipe in my mouth, or the thought of Christine being present whilst he's being milked, causes his tiny cock to swell as much as the miniscule cock lock he wears will allow. This, I imagine can be quite painful at times, but he puts up with it because he loves the fact that I own his cock, even if I don't allow it anywhere near my cunt any more.

I should explain about Richard, chastity and milking.

When we were first married, we had 'normal' husband and wife relations, usually in the missionary position, and it usually lasted as long as five minutes, at best! I loved Richard (I still do) and so I didn't complain.

One night, after a particularly brief and unsatisfying fuck (for both of us), Richard suggested that I find a lover who was both bigger than him, and who could keep going without cumming until I'd had an orgasm too. Cue the biggest, loudest row Richard and I have ever had, and my storming out of the marital bed to sleep alone in the spare room for the first time in our married life.

I've written elsewhere on this site about how we quickly made up, talked about his shortcomings and my needs, and how we began a new lifestyle in a Swinger's group, so I won't bore readers by re-visiting that time. Suffice to say, it didn't last, thanks to Richard's tiny cock and its propensity to cum far too soon. That's when I became a Hot Wife and made Richard my cuckold.

And now my lovely cuckold and I were over a quarter of a century further on from that point. And about to baby sit my niece whilst her Hot Wife adoptive mother took her cuckold husband over to America so that he could watch her being bred by a black American bull.

Saturday morning dawned and Richard swung into action. Early morning tea in bed for me whilst he prepared our breakfast. As it was promising to be a glorious day, weather wise, he set out our first meal of the day on the table on the patio overlooking the back garden.

We discussed what shopping needed doing as we ate, and when we'd finished, I helped him clear the table. Whilst he put the dirty dishes in the sink, to be washed up later, I went upstairs and set out the clothes I required my cuckold to wear for the rest of the day.

Lacy panties and hold up stockings are standard fare for Richard, and today I decided on a pink polo shirt and a pair of tan chinos. When he came up to dress, I inspected his cock lock, as I do every morning, and pronounced myself satisfied.

"You'll need to shave this afternoon before your milking," I informed him. "I wonder if Christine would like to learn how to shave a cuckold's cock and balls?"

He looked at me with loving eyes.

"You wouldn't?" he gulped and I winked at him wickedly.

"Wouldn't I?" I asked.

I was back on the patio, enjoying the early morning sunshine when the front door bell rang. I put my pipe down carefully in the ashtray and went to answer it.

When I opened the front door, it was to see my sister, Mari and her cuckold Les standing there on either side of their adopted daughter, Christine.

"All set?" I asked, smiling at all three of them. "Richard's out shopping, I'm afraid. He'll be so annoyed that he missed you. Have you got time for a coffee before you go?"

Les looked at Mari, who shook her head decisively.

"We need to get away quite quickly," she replied. "I know it's Saturday, and there's less traffic on the road, but I want to get to the airport as soon as possible. But I will have a glass of water, please."

"Come in, come in," I smiled, stepping aside to let my guests in. I took Christine's hand as she passed.

"Welcome, darling," I told her. "You and I are going to have so much fun whilst you stay here."

"Thank you, Aunty Olwen," she replied with a smile, and once again I found myself thinking how much like a young Elizabeth Taylor my niece looked. She was stunningly pretty, and I wondered if she had a boyfriend, or a girlfriend. I hoped not. Playing with Christine in front of Richard would tease and torment him beautifully.

"I'm sorry, dear. Did you say something?" I asked Christine, who seemed to be fidgeting something awful in the hallway.

"Can I use the bathroom, please?" Christine said plaintively. "I'm bursting for a pee!"

"Of course, my dear. You know where it is," I replied, and Christine shot off upstairs gratefully.

"Oh good, she's gone," Mari said in a low voice. "I can show you what I've had to do with this one now."

She looked at Les and clicked her fingers.

"Display! Now! Quickly before Christine comes back!"

Les unbuttoned his trousers and let them slide down his legs. He wore no underpants, so I had an immediate view of his little boy's cock safely ensconced in a bright pink silicon sheath. It was secured on with a plastic cable tie.

"Fucking airport security!" giggled my sister. "But don't worry. His heavy metal cage is packed safe and sound in my case. I'll be putting that back on him as soon as we land stateside!"

"Pink suits him," I remarked, fondling my brother-in-law's balls. "My word! These are quite swollen. When did you milk him last?"

"A week last Saturday," Mari replied, clicking her fingers again and making 'pull them up' gestures to her cuckold. "I milk him weekly, just like you do with Richard, but last Saturday, the clumsy twat dropped a pint of milk in the kitchen. And this after he'd ruined one of my best silk blouses when he was ironing. I cancelled last Saturday's milking as a punishment."

"Are they sore, cucky?" I giggled, but Les was spared the embarrassment of answering by Christine, who asked, "Are what sore?" as she came back down stairs.

"Um... Daddy's arms dear. Aunty Olwen was asking if our suitcases were heavy."

"Well Daddy's certainly isn't," retorted Christine. "I doubt if you've packed enough for a week for him, let alone a month!"

"Now, now dear. You know your father's perfectly happy in jeans and a T shirt," Mari replied. "I'm the fashion diva in this family!"

Christine rolled her beautiful almond shaped eyes and pretended to yawn. I grinned at her.

"Oh! You haven't had your glass of water," I said, but Mari shook her head.

"I've changed my mind," she said, winking at me pointedly. "I won't be able to use the toilet whilst we're in the car!"

Les blushed, and I knew perfectly well why. Both my sister and I enjoyed watersports with our respective cuckolds. Mari couldn't very well sit on Les's face and empty her bladder whilst he was driving.

I embraced Mari warmly, and then my sister took her adopted daughter in her arms.

"I'm going to miss you, darling," she whispered. "Be a good girl for Aunty Olwen, and we'll see you when we come back."

"Have a lovely holiday," replied Christine, kissing her mother chastely on her cheek. "Of course I'll behave for Aunty Olwen. She's a teacher, remember? She doesn't put up with any nonsense!"

My sister looked at me and winked. I knew exactly what she meant. When I was out on a date as a Hot Wife, I put up with an awful lot of 'nonsense', if that was the correct term to describe my sexual antics.

Christine and I stood on the doorstep and waved Mari and Les off. When their car had disappeared around the corner at the end of the street, Christine turned to me and smiled.

"Free at last. Free at last. Thank God Almighty, I'm free at last," she said with a giggle.

"Well at least that expensive private education of yours wasn't a complete waste of time," I remarked dryly. "You've obviously been taught about Martin Luther King Although why you had to be sent away to be educated when there's a perfectly good local authority run school only a quarter of a mile away, I just don't know."

Christine giggled again.

"I think Mam wanted me out of the way for as long as possible," Christine said as we walked through the house, and out onto the back garden patio. "She and Daddy get up to an awful lot of mischief when they think I can't hear."

"Oh? What do you mean by that?" I asked carefully.

We sat down on the sunloungers on the patio, and I picked my pipe up and puffed it back to life. Christine smiled and sniffed appreciatively.

"Your pipe tobacco smells lovely," she remarked. "I much prefer it to those stinky cigars that Mam smokes. I think I might take up the pipe. Some of the girls at school smoke cigarettes. I'd love to show them that I'm different. A pipe seems the obvious choice, and it will give Mam and Daddy a shock to see me smoking when they come back!"

I ignored this obvious ploy to try and change the subject.

"You were saying that your parents got up to mischief at home," I reminded Christine. "What exactly did you mean by that?"

Christine hesitated.

"I don't want to embarrass you, Aunty Olwen," she began, and I smiled and shook my head.

"Don't you worry about me," I assured her. "Nothing you tell me will embarrass me, I assure you."

Christine took a deep breath and was, I'm sure, about to launch into a description of what my sister and her cuckold got up to when they thought their daughter wasn't listening. But just as Christine came out with, "Well, mam and daddy sometimes...", Richard came round the corner of the house and up the path that led to the back garden

"I'm home, dear. I've done the shopping. Oh, Christine's here. How are you, Christine. You're looking rather flushed. Is everything alright?"

I managed to turn a scowl into a smile, which I imagined made me look as if I was chewing on a lemon.

"Christine was about to explain what my sister and Les get up to at home," I said through gritted teeth. "That is until you came charging up the garden path like a bull on the rampage!"

Richard looked at me, and realised straight away that I was annoyed.

"I'll go and put the shopping away," he said meekly. "You and Christine can have your chat in private."

He slunk off down the garden path, and Christine looked at me in what I felt was embarrassment.

"You and mam are so alike in some ways," she said. "It seems to me that both daddy and Uncle Richard are scared of their wives. They both do as they're told, and never answer back."

"Is that what you meant when you started to say that your parents get up to mischief?" I asked cautiously.

"Oh, goodness me, no," replied Christine, shaking her head for emphasis, and blushing deeply.

"What I was going to say was that I think daddy annoys mam quite often. I've heard sounds coming from their bedroom as if mam is hitting daddy. You know the sort of sounds I mean? Like smacking, or sometimes I've heard a different sound. As if mam is using a cane to hit daddy."

"If I remember correctly," I said cautiously, "your bedroom is quite a distance from the bedroom your parents sleep in. Perhaps you didn't hear what you just described. Maybe you were dreaming?"

"I most certainly was not dreaming," Christine replied vehemently. "You're right that my bedroom is on one side of the house, and mam and daddy sleep in the back on the other side of the house. But this one day, I was home from school, and I overheard mam giving dad a row. She told him something about not having any milk, and that he needed a a behavioural, not a maintenance session. I didn't understand any of it, so when I said I was going to bed, sometime later on, I saw them look at one another, and mam mouthed 'tonight' at daddy."

"I crept out of my bedroom, and went over to the other side of the house, and that's when I heard those caning sounds. Daddy was counting, and he sounded quite upset. I've listened at their bedroom door several times since. I'm sure that I'm right. Mam hits daddy. It's like all this domestic abuse you hear about on the news, but in reverse."

I smoked my pipe thoughtfully for a few moments, thinking furiously.

"Are you annoyed with me, Aunty Olwen?" Christine asked anxiously. She seemed on the verge of tears. "Am I wicked to have eavesdropped on mam and daddy?"

"Not at all, my darling," I smiled at her. "You're well over the age of consent now. How old are you? I forget, because time goes so quickly these days."

"I'll be twenty next September," said Christine proudly. "I've almost done my time in Berne. Then my teachers say I'll be perfectly qualified, and can pick and choose what sort of job I want. Most of the girls in my year are either going to become au pairs, or they're going into business as P.A.'s. I haven't made my mind up yet. I think I'll have a year out when I've finished my education."

"Very wise," I replied dryly. My sarcasm was lost on Christine, who obviously thought that a year in a so-called 'finishing school' in Switzerland was the norm, rather than the exception, which only the obscenely rich or the over-privileged could afford.

"There is something you'll need to know and understand whilst you're staying here," I said kindly, having made up my mind once and for all. "I'm going to explain something to you, but I need Richard here, so that he can confirm what I'm about to tell you."

I put my pipe down, which Christine mistook as a sign that I was about to go and fetch my cuckold. She got up from the sunlounger quickly.

"I'll go and get Uncle Richard," she offered, but I shook my head.

"Stay there," I said, rather more sternly than I intended.

"Richard?" I called out in a louder voice. "Richard? Come here now. We need to talk to Christine."

Richard came hurrying out, still wearing his frilly apron and a pair of lurid pink washing up gloves.

"Sorry, dear," he said with a smile, "I was just washing up the breakfast things. What was it you wanted to talk about?"

I winked at him, something Christine missed, I made sure.

"It's time, Richard," I said, uttering the phrase he and I had previously earmarked for our 'revelation' talk with Christine.

"Understood, dear," he replied. "Would either of you like a drink before we start? I can brew some coffee, or would you prefer something cold?"

I looked at Christine.

"Is it too early for a gin and tonic?" I asked, and Christine grinned.

"Ww! That sounds lovely!" she enthused. "But gin and tonic before lunch and a chat? Should I be worried?"

"Not at all," I reassured her. "That's settled then, Richard. Gins and tonic please. Oh, and bring my corn cob pipe and my tobacco pouch too please. Christine has expressed an interest in learning to smoke a pipe."

Richard disappeared to carry out his tasks with a huge grin on his face, which was visible, and I had no doubt, a very tight chastity cage, which was not. Not for the moment, at least, I thought with a grin to myself.

When he returned, Christine noticed straightaway that his tray only had two glasses of gin and tonic. She looked at me quizzically.

"I thought..." she began, but I interrupted her.

"You're a grown woman now, Christine," I began. "So I'm going to treat you like an adult. Watch, listen and learn."

I handed over her glass and we clinked.

"Cheers," I toasted her. "Welcome to our world, my darling. I hope you'll embrace the lifestyle with as much enthusiasm and enjoyment as Richard and I get out of it every day."

"Richard and I love one another," I began. "You have to understand that, and believe it. We have a fabulous lifestyle, one that suits us both and one which we will never change. But our lifestyle doesn't suit everybody."