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FIVE WORDS
Part Seven: January
“Ten … nine … eight … seven …”
The party heaved with two dozen chanting, flushed faces, smiling around at each other.
“… six … five … four …”
But Mart stared intently at Kelly. His green eyes solely on her.
“… three … two … one …”
Then a great, communal cry went up.
“Happy New Year !!!!”
She blew a kiss at him, then turned and hugged the people either side of her. The chimes of Big Ben ringing in 2007 were broadcast over the speakers.
Finally, she turned back to him. He hugged her.
“Happy New Year.” He murmured. His hot breath tickled her ear.
“I’m still mulling over your offer you know.”
They smiled at each other. Every New Year she whispered those words.
“And ?”
She stared back into his emerald eyes. This time was for keeps.
“Go to the bathroom and lock yourself back into your CB.”
He shut his eyes, drew a long breath. Then opened them again, sparkling.
“Yes … Mistress.”
The past three weeks hadn’t been easy. In the days after her return from LA, both she and Mart had needed time. They lived in the same house but weren’t mentally in the same space. She wasn’t interested in him or in domination. She pretty much let him do as he liked. He watched TV, played golf with Dylan, even jerked himself off for all she knew. His genitals had slowly recovered from their mistreatment at Ingrid’s hands.
It had been Kelly’s idea to invite Chantal and Greg over from LA for Christmas. Their visit had lifted Mart’s spirits and thawed out the winter atmosphere. After a bit too much turkey and pudding on Christmas Day, they had lain in bed together that night and ‘opened up’ to each other.
“It just wasn’t what I wanted.” He said. “I don’t want a Fem Domme hooker-type. It’s you I want. Domination and control by you.”
She grinned a little sheepishly.
“I think we both learned something. The past four weeks were necessary, in a strange way.”
“Can I ask, what did you learn ?”
She shrugged. It was a question she’d asked herself a lot.
“I now have a much clearer idea of what I want from our … situation. I realised that I still love you Mart. I guess deep down, I was frightened when this all began that it would inevitably lead to our separation, in the end. I didn’t know if it would take five days, five months or five years, but I feared I would be unable to stop myself … you know, no longer respecting you.”
He looked at her. A hint of hurt in his eyes, but silent, patient.
“I guess I confused lust with love too. But I discovered that part of my satisfaction comes from you being mostly around. Sure, I enjoyed …”
She paused to brush his cheek, stalling on the word.
“ … fucking with James. And Alain. But I like fucking with your mind too.”
He nodded solemnly, then broke into a wry grin.
“I’m sorry. I wish I was … you know … different.”
“But you are who you are Mart. So am I. Neither of us can change that. That’s why I can still respect you. After all, it’s as much part of you as your loveable green eyes and … this.”
She smirked, touching his penis for the first time in weeks. But her fingers didn’t linger on it. Instead, the two of them just lay silently for a while, listening to their heartbeats.
“What else ?” he asked, finally.
“What else ? Mmm. I realised that there are lots of things left for us to try you know. I held back. It’s the one thing Ingrid was right about. I need to take us further. To have total control. To indulge all my wicked fantasies. That’s a condition if we are going to continue.”
She raised an eyebrow, questioning him with her gaze.
“What do you think Mart ? Carry on … or are you too afraid ?”
He bit his lower lip. “The only thing I’m afraid of is how I’d feel if I lost you.”
She leaned over and kissed him.
“Well, you’ve nothing to be afraid of then.”
They both took Chantal and Greg to the airport. In the car on the journey home, they agreed that midnight on New Year’s Eve would mark the starting point.
He felt strange at Naomi and Nick’s annual party. Most of the people there knew the situation. They asked him politely about Christmas, about Chantal, small talk about the weather and politics, told the occasional joke. Yet he could tell they were all looking at him and wondering. He’d known several of them for twenty-plus years. Studied, socialised and worked with them. He’d been to their weddings and they’d been to his. They knew he had been his wife’s slave.
And all the time the clocks were ticking towards midnight.
In the bathroom, he removed his steel Gerecke and placed it round his dick.
Bye bye, old chap. He whispered, turning the key in the lock.
He and Kelly had made love twice in the week since Christmas. They’d been gentle and loving, missionary sessions. Not wild fucking bouts. They were to bond the two of them together again. But he’d been disappointed when she hadn’t climaxed either time. He’d tried to get her to let him use his fingers or mouth to finish her afterwards but she wasn’t interested.
Her time would come, she’d said, winking at the double-entendre.
Somehow he’d resisted masturbating himself since, even though he knew it might be a long time before she let him cum again.
He hid the key in the palm of his closed hand and walked out the bathroom.
The interval was over. It was time for Act Two.
“Quiet please.” Naomi called out, turning down the background music.
It was half past midnight.
The remaining twenty or so people slowly ceased talking.
“Kelly has a little announcement to make.”
She smiled at the expectant faces. She’d rehearsed these words.
“Hi, everybody. Happy New Year again.”
They all mumbled ‘Happy New Year Kelly’ back to her.
She flicked her brunette hair away from her eyes and struck her most confident, sexy pose; hands on hips, one knee cocked, tits thrust out, lips in a ‘come hither’ pout.
“I guess it’s the world’s worst kept secret that, for the past few months, Mart and I have had a … pretty strange arrangement going on.”
She gave them a little self-conscious grin and several friends broke eye contact with her too. Awkwardness all round.
“Well the reason I wanted to say something is to avoid any embarrassment from now on. Please feel free to be open about it. We’d just rather you all keep it from our mums !”
There was a titter of laughter.
“Seriously, I would ask you all to be discreet. Especially those of you who know Chantal. But amongst all of us, be as open and blunt as you like.”
“Do you want to have sex with me, Kel ?” a man’s voice called out.
Yuk. Simon. Single Simon. Single for a reason.
She smiled sweetly. “That was blunt.” She replied. “So I’ll be blunt. No, I don’t want sex with you Simon. That’s not how this works.” A couple of people winked at her encouragingly.
“The point is this, folks. From this moment onwards, Mart is my slave. That’s not a politically correct word but I can’t think of a more accurate one. If you can’t handle that, then I’d like to thank you for being such good friends up to now but I guess this is goodbye. However, if you would like to remain friends with me, but see Mart only in his new role, I’d be very pleased to continue all our friendships. Thank you very much.”
“Hear hear.” Nick called out excitedly. Kelly smiled at him in thanks.
“I’m in.” somebody added.
“Me too.” another chimed. She thought it was Jack.
Gradually the entire room endorsed her speech.
“We’re right behind you sister.” Naomi whispered, hugging her.
Kelly glanced at Mart standing aloof, watching them all. Her slave.
2nd January 2007 was a Tuesday and the start of normal business after the long European break for the Christmas holidays.
The delivery van arrived before nine o’clock.
Two men in blue overalls with clipboards unloaded several wooden crates. The tallest boxes were over 7 feet long, the largest 6 feet square. Kelly made the guys coffee while Mart helped them heave everything upstairs.
It was her new bed. A very special double bed from a specialist website. She’d actually ordered it six weeks earlier, before going to USA with James. Her Christmas present to herself.
It wasn’t going to be wasted after all.
It was made of rosewood, beautifully rich and polished. It was a four poster but without a canopy. The wooden corner posts tapered to carved points at the 6 feet high tips, like ornate spears. The sides and ends of the bed were solid and panelled, so you couldn’t see under it. The luxury mattress was top of the range, thick, hand-sewn and fully supporting.
After the delivery men had removed her old bed, assembled the new one, and left, while Mart was downstairs washing up, she checked the mechanism. A hidden motor whirred and the base began to rise from the bottom end, lifting the mattress with it up to 45 degrees.
She peered into the space below. There was a second thin mattress on the floor, with four fastening cuffs in the corners. Mart could be tied down there all night, under her mattress. Or all day.
Or both.
In the final, unopened box was something else. She fetched her nail scissors and cut the tapes, heartbeat running a bit fast. This was maybe going a bit far but the photo on the website had triggered a morbid fascination in her. Her very own portable queening and toilet seat !
It was made of smooth, rigid plastic in an attractive cream colour.
It was basically a sitting stool like an adult-sized child’s potty; there was a padded toilet seat that lifted, a plastic container and base, and a neck hole in the front. The neck hole opened like the two halves of a pillory to lock the wearer’s head in place, as he lay down face-up on the floor.
She had chosen the ‘relaxation’ model. There was a separate strip of sturdy plastic that she slid into grooves in the back of the stool until it clicked and locked into position. This formed a back support to give her greater comfort as she sat on the stool.
Kelly placed it on the ground and squatted down. She giggled, imagining seeing Mart lying there in front of her, or maybe tied down in position.
Time for a cup of expresso.
Mart was finishing washing up the previous night’s dinner. They had taken New Year’s Day slowly, getting used to the Mistress-slave deal again. After dinner, she’d had him bathe, massage and tongue her.
“I can’t decide whether to find another job for you.” She mused.
He nodded, evidently making clear the decision was entirely hers. He was dressed in shorts, tight top and an apron.
“Or whether you should start up another company ?”
She sat at the kitchen table with an exaggerated sigh.
“Decisions, decisions ! Make me an expresso. Then call Naomi and invite her for lunch. Then go upstairs and make up my new bed with those new cotton sheets that Chantal gave us for Christmas. Then prepare a chicken salad for lunch, for two if Nao’ can come. Then do the usual housework checklist. Make sure you clean out all my lingerie and handwash it. A month has gone by since you last laundered it.”
She accepted the cup of expresso without a word. It was important not to thank or acknowledge him. She sipped it in silence, listening to Mart on the phone, hearing Naomi saying yes to lunch.
Half an hour later, she found him tidying up her clothes and hanging them in the closet.
“Come.” She said, curling her finger.
She pointed at the cream plastic toilet seat on her tiled, bathroom floor.
“Put that on round your neck.”
Mart’s face turned white but he obeyed. He opened the collar and then closed it, with the round toilet seat in front of his face. There was a thin plastic ruff round the edge to make the collar watertight.
“Lie down there.”
She watched him lay down, like a deep sea diver in his ‘helmet’.
“Mart …” she peered into the hole, “… I know we’ve done some of this before. You asked what have I learned. The answer is that one of the things I enjoy a lot is … this.”
He looked up at her. His even gaze indicated agreement. Or at least acceptance.
She removed her thong and flipped up the hem of her skirt, so that it fell daintily around her as she sat down. She relaxed her back against the support.
It was a little low and awkward, but perfectly comfortable.
“Lick my bum, Mart.” She said, loud enough for him to hear.
Moments later she felt a lovely liquid chill ripple through her as Mart’s tongue slid into her rim. She let her weight sink into the seat, spreading her buttocks just a bit wider.
She could already visualise herself watching TV or a movie like this in the evening. Sitting on her stool with a drink, some chocs and the phone to hand, without any need to go anywhere to take a break.
She passed gas silently. Mart carried on licking without a discernible break. It amused her that, with her butt causing one tight seal and then her skirt adding a secondary defence, she had no idea whether or not her flatulence had been smelly. Oh well, who cared ? Not her.
Her bladder squeaked for relief and so she ceased teasing herself and let rip, trying to imagine the scene below. The website blurb about the plastic container claimed it had a four pints capacity on top of space required for an average adult head.
She counted to forty five seconds. Two morning cups of tea and a dark, bitter expresso, along with a glass of grapefruit juice and probably some of last night’s tannic red wine.
Mmm …
Mart’s body lay still on the tiled floor between her legs. She could see from his chest that he was gulping and deep breathing. When her flow had stopped, she felt his damp tongue burrowing into her anus again.
Her tummy rumbled and she felt a second ripple of wind. This time she pushed, so that it popped out noisily, not silently. She heard a slight moan but his tongue kept twirling in obedient circles inside her.
She was tempted. But now was too soon.
Of all her resentment at Ingrid’s mistreatment of Mart, it was that particular disrespect that most upset her. She hadn’t expected somebody to go beyond the realms of decency. It was all very well for people to behave as they liked with their own property but not with borrowed possessions. She felt as if somebody had asked to use her bathroom and left it in a disgusting state.
She reached out to the toilet tissue and pulled off a sheet, then raised her hips and wiped her pussy dry. She threw the tissue into the ‘pan’.
Mart’s face was drenched. He blinked up at her like a drowning man peering through a submarine window.
She chuckled. “Okay there, Mart ?”
He sort-of nodded his head.
“Did you miss my wee-wee ?”
He made a face and mumbled a reply.
“Go get cleaned up and make sure you decant that piss. Your cellar’s run dry.”
After he’d left the room, she sat on the proper toilet and emptied her bowels. She let her mind wander as she sat there. Why are we like we are ? What is it in our genes or upbringing or lives that allows some of us to be perfectly satisfied with roses and champagne and vanilla lovemaking, and causes others to long for thorns and urine and … sadomasochism ?
“Nice lunch.”
Mart topped up Naomi’s glass. She glanced up at him. He’d actually known her longer than he’d known Kelly. She’d introduced them both.
Kelly disdainfully pushed her unfinished plate away. “What does Nick think ?”
“Nick ?”
“Yeah. About us. Me and Mart.”
“He’s cool. I mean, he’s fascinated, you know. Though he pretends not to be.”
“He ever been into anything kinky ? You guys ever played ?”
Mart stood busily at the kitchen sink, pretending not to listen.
“Funnily enough …” Naomi tittered shyly, “… until recently I’d have called him the straightest man I know. But … since we’ve known about you two, he’s … well … asked me to try some stuff.”
“No ! What kind of stuff ?”
“Oh nothing like you. But tying him up. Maybe spanking him. I can’t say. I’m embarrassed.”
“Don’t be embarrassed ! I mean, we’re hardly ones to judge. So … go on.”
There was a pause. Mart put away the olive oil and balsamic.
“Well, we’ve tried. But I’m not very good. I’m not dominant like you.”
“Hah. I didn’t think I was either. Mart !”
He turned round and walked to the table.
“Take everything off, now !”
He undressed as fast as he could. Kelly and Naomi watched him. Naomi’s pale blue eyes didn’t flinch. She had a tousled nest of light strawberry hair, freckles and small, pert tits.
“What’s Nick into ?” Kelly asked, while he removed his briefs, naked but for his steel tube.
“I’m not sure yet. But he’s asked me to try whacking him with a hairbrush.”
“And ?”
“I don’t think I did it very well. He said I didn’t really hit him.”
“You need to practice, my dear.”
Mart was bent over naked, clutching his ankles.
Kelly’s hands played around with his buttocks, fingertips opening up his rectum. He felt the air tickle his exposed bottom.
“What’s that for ?” Naomi’s voice enquired.
“Oh, just inspecting. One of the numerous advantages of having a submissive man is that you don’t have to put up with all those nasty male habits. You know, poor hygiene, dirty underpants, unshaved stubble.”
“You check his ass ?”
“Sure I do.”
Mart cringed, his face hot as he stared at the floor.
“And I like to watch him on the toilet.” Kelly added, probing with a fingernail. “No more long, leisurely visits to the bathroom for him ! He can be putting that time saved to better use doing things for me.”
Naomi burst out laughing. “I have a lot to learn !”
“You sure do. Now, before you pick up that hairbrush, a few comments.”
Mart felt Kelly’s familiar hand run down his spine firmly.
“First, get comfortable. You need to be able to swing your arm and carry on as long as necessary. Okay ? Good. Make sure you can rotate your body for extra force. Next, move him into position. Push his back down so his butt’s in exactly the right place for you. You want it fully presented, open.”
Naomi’s foot inserted itself between Mart’s legs, opening them further.
“Excellent.” Kelly said. “Take the initiative. You need his balls and anus on show. Check his cheeks are nicely stretched, that way he can’t clench and you’ll have a juicy, bouncy target. It’s actually kinder because it hurts more, so you don’t have to thrash so hard and risk doing any real damage.”
Kelly’s hand pushed the back of his head so he was bent right down to his feet. He looked up through his legs and saw Naomi’s concentrated, impish stare.
“I like him to watch me throughout and count. If I’m in the mood, I sometimes thank me as well.”
The pale blue eyes, freckles and white teeth curled into an amused grin.
“This is more fun than when I tried with Nick.”
“Good.” Kelly replied. “Okay now you take up your final position. You want to be just a bit behind his butt, at a right angle. Make sure you’re comfortable again and check his position. Get him to move if necessary. And if he shifts during the spanking, or if he stops looking up at you, wait and make sure he assumes the correct position again. Be absolutely fastidious. Now … ready ?”
“As I’ll ever be.” Naomi replied.
“Then I suggest you start with twenty.”
Twenty !
“Twenty !” Naomi exclaimed. “That many ?”
Kelly had never given him more than twelve before.
“You need to build up your spanking strength.”
“But …”
Through his legs, Mart could see Naomi had put her hand to her mouth. Nevertheless, she was actually smiling, eyes wide.
“…what about him ?”
“Mart ? He needs to build up his spanking strength too.”
He watched Naomi raise the brush and then thwack it down onto his butt.
A nasty hot smack zinged across his cheeks.
“One. Er, thank you … Ms. Naomi.” Mart stammered out. He blinked in shock but immediately forced his eyes back open.
“I think I know what Nick meant.” Kelly said. “Do it harder, Nao.”
A second, nastier, hotter blow splattered his backside.
“Ahhss …” he hissed. “T … two. Thank you … Ms. Naomi.”
He always hated the first few. The end seemed so far away.
Three. On the other cheek.
Four. Bang on top of number three.
Five. A low one that caught the tender underside of his globes.
Six. Another where three and four hand landed.
His eyes watered. Breath uneven. He gasped out the count and thanks.
“Hold it.” Kelly called out. “His head’s risen up.”
Naomi’s empty hand pushed him back down to the floor. She trailed her fingers back over his hot flesh, lingering over the sweet spots.
“More wine ?” Kelly asked.
“Mm, please. It’s hard work.”
“Nobody said keeping a male slave is easy.”
They both laughed, relaxing with each other. He heard them clinking glasses, drinking. He screwed his eyes shut to stifle their wetness and then looked up at her.
Then swats seven through twelve followed in painful succession.
“Tw … twelve. Thank you … Ms. N … Naomi.”
“He’s crying.”
“Oh I’ve seen Mart cry many times. Don’t be put off. He’ll be fine. That’s part of the game. If he doesn’t cry it’s usually because it’s too mild.”
“Phew. I need another break. And a drink.”
“Sure. Come through to the other room. Mart’s not going anywhere !”
He guessed five minutes passed before they returned. He’d stayed exactly where he was, absorbing the stages of pain as they evolved through the sharp stinging to the build up of heat throughout his bottom and pelvic area, to the throbbing hum of soreness in the nerve endings. Worse was knowing that it was by no means over. New layers would be added.
They were laughing aloud when they returned, but no longer talking. He briefly wondered what had amused them so much.
Upside down, he watched Naomi take up her position like a seasoned pro. She winked, then pushed down on his tail, stretching his cheeks.
Thirteen. Unlucky. The tip of the brush caught the back of his scrotum.
Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen.
He was snivelling properly now, although he tried to hide it.
Naomi paused. “Last one.” He heard her say, a tinge of regret in her voice. She had an almost feline expression he’d seen on Kelly’s face a few times. He imagined it was how a cat must look playing with a mouse; amused but ruthless, intrigued but detached.
“Why ?” Kelly asked.
“You said twenty.”
“I said start with twenty !”
The twentieth blow blistered his upturned, flaming backside.
“Aaaggh.” He howled. “Tw … enty. Th … thank you, Ms. Naomi.”
Kelly walked out to Naomi’s car with her.
“Give it a try with Nick, yeah ?”
Naomi looked up at her out of the car window.
“I don’t know …”
“Look, you don’t have to go the whole nine yards.” She giggled. “Just five !”
Naomi jammed the keys into the ignition.
“I’ll talk it through with him. Seriously. No promises.”
Kelly nodded. “Just think … we could … you know, get together !”
Naomi gunned the engine, rolling her eyes. “If I’d known you were going to grow up into such a kinky gal, Kel’, I’d have never spoken to you when we were eleven years old !”
“Come here.” She said.
Mart was hanging up her lingerie to dry indoors; thongs, strings, briefs, knickers, slips, suspenders, hold-ups, fishnets, waspies, bras, quarter-cups, half-cups, a corset; in black, white, cream, red and black/red trim; in cotton, lace, satins and silks. A harlot’s wardrobe.
He put down the laundry basket and knelt by her chair.
“Kiss me.”
He puckered his lips and they both kissed warmly. Not tongues, but a full union of the lips.
Kelly smiled at him. “I want you to make love to me this evening.”
He inhaled slowly. “Of … course.”
“I’m going to give you a chance, Mart. If you can satisfy me, properly, then my dangerous liaisons are over. That’s what I’d prefer.”
She stared into his eyes, reading them.
“Is that what you’d prefer too, Mart ?”
He dry swallowed. You live with somebody two decades, you can tell.
“Why, Mart ? Why do you want me to … fuck other men ?”
He lowered his head.
She put her finger under his chin and raised his face. There were tears in his eyes. He screwed them shut tight.
“I don’t want you to f … fuck other men.” He whispered bitterly.
Kelly cupped his cheek tenderly, wiped a stray tear away.
“What do you want ?”
“What’s best for you.”
“No Mart. That’s not it. What’s best for me is you. I know that now. What you want is what’s best for you. Isn’t it ?”
He shook his head in sorrow. “For b … both of us … I guess.”
“I can’t do it like that. Not just to please you. It has to be my way. Or not at all.”
“What is your way ?”
She smiled, cocking her head. “Your friends … our friends.”
He frowned. “What …?”
“I don’t want strangers like James. Guys I don’t know and can’t trust. I’ve been there and done that, Mart. No, there are at least two, maybe more, male friends and acquaintances we know who I … well, to be blunt, I could see myself having fun with. Now that our situation is fully out in the open, I would prefer them to another James or Alain.”
She studied him. This was important.
She felt like she was on a rollercoaster. At the start, she had ridden the upslope and then raced down the first half of the track, all whoops and hollers and swooping curves and plunging dips. But now, she had reached the point where the ride slows and ascends again, another ratcheted incline to the high point of the entire rollercoaster. The moment when you glance at the entire amusement park laid out below; other rides, arcades and foodstands, people as tiny specks. And suddenly you realise you have crested the peak and you’re off again, no way back, plunging heart in your mouth, down into the fearsome second part of the track …
“Who … ?”
Kelly shook her head. “It doesn’t work like that. I’m not agreeing rules with you. What, who, when or where. Frankly that’s all up to me. I may not even tell you. Certainly at the start … if at all. I shall probably have affairs, Mart. Secret liaisons. It won’t be deceitful. Because I’m telling you now, up front, that’s what I’ll be doing. Sometimes you’ll probably taste him, or them, on me, but you won’t know which of our buddies is shagging me until I’m good and ready to tell you.”
She dabbed another salty teardrop away.
“As big Frank sang, I’ll do it my way.”
Mart gazed and then, very slowly, lowered his head in acceptance.
“Is that what you want ?”
“… yes.” He whispered.
“And you want me to keep you in long term chastity while I do it ?”
“… yes.”
She smiled over the top of his head. She felt a tinge of sadness. They had had the opportunity to try a different sort of relationship. A more … romantic one. The elusive damsel and her devoted knight. The exotic queen and her muscular servant. But it was not to be. In spite of all that had happened over the past six months, it was the vicious harlot and the abused jester that, unfortunately, Mart truly, madly, deeply preferred.
And, alas, so did she.
Five very bad, slightly mad … sad but true words.
This is not the end of Part Seven
It will be updated with the second half in a few days time
‘Rabbit 1, with thanks – Rest in Peace’
The Big John Dong Vibrator was black, sculpted and comfortably large.
Kelly lay back, spine arched, red nails gripping her pillow, as Mart concentrated on bringing her up to a second, shattering climax. He ploughed the glistening, vibrating dildo deep into her, then eased it out slowly, until the rim of the crown touched his wife’s engorged labia.
He was crouched between her legs, his face only inches from her sex, studying her responses, hearing, smelling, seeing everything. But only focused on her pleasure.
Both of them were entirely focused on her pleasure.
Mart was irrelevant, except as an operative. His own equipment throbbed uncomfortably in its confining, unyielding steel tube. He did his best to disregard it, his mind solely fixed on what he was doing, although the nagging pulse in his own groin was impossible to ignore completely.
He moved his head up to flick his tongue at her clitoris then plunged the vibe in again.
“Yessss …” Kelly hissed. “Nggah … nearly …”
He quickened the pace, in, out, in out, deeper, deeper, until the full length was inside her sucking flesh.
“Yes … James… Yesssssssss …”
She bucked her hips, her legs extending to their full length, toes curling, in another gut-wrenching orgasm. Mart marvelled at Kelly’s ability to lose herself completely in the moment. The demure girl he’d married twenty years before no longer existed. The brash woman in her place enjoyed a climax that appeared to last for around ten, long seconds.
He waited, holding ‘James’ still inside her, letting her come down.
The scent was different from normal sex. Much more floral and feminine. There was no tang of mingling fluids of the male and female. Just hers.
“Phew …” she exhaled. “I needed that. Mmm …”
He waited until she peered down at him.
“That’s enough. You can clean James now.”
It had been her teasing idea to call her new vibrator James. Big, black and brainless, she joked, just like her ex-boyfriend. And a nice reminder for Mart.
He switched off the vibrations, slid it from her, and sucked the jelly rubber dick into his mouth. It was too large to be comfortable.
“Deeper.” She said. “Until you gag.”
He pushed until the crown nudged his throat, making him choke.
She smiled. “Now you know why I never got off on doing that to you.”
He continued licking, slobbering.
“Enough.” She said, tiring of the game.
He cleaned it properly, dried and put it away in his bedside stand. Then he brushed his teeth quickly in the bathroom and began to climb back into bed alongside her.
She shook her head, getting up off the bed.
“From now on, Mart, you sleep here.”
He watched her lean down to press a hidden dial. There was a whirring motor sound and, at the foot of the bed, the mattress started rising. It stopped at 45 degrees.
“Climb in.” she said.
He looked at her, then peered into the void created below the mattress and her thick, fluffy comforter-duvet.
His own mattress felt thin to the touch, plastic and uncovered. He lay down tentatively.
“Wrists in the cuffs.”
One by one, he put his hands through the loops. She pushed the dial and they automatically tightened round his wrists then pulled his arms taut into the corners of the space.
“Sleep tight.”
Moments later, there was a whirring sound and he watched the bed descend, the light diminishing to a sliver and then … pitch black.
Each day new packages and envelopes arrived, and the following morning was no exception. Kelly smiled at one envelope. Through the clear window she could see the tickets. She hid it safe in her pocket.
There was also a large box with a garish label.
She sat at the table drinking a cup of fresh mint tea.
“Open it.”
Mart unwrapped the box and pulled out a white, plasticated bundle. She smiled at his expression of vague bemusement.
Adult diapers !
“I used to find you asking me whether you could use the toilet all the time tiresome.” She told him. “So I thought these would solve the problem.”
He looked at her, his lips opening as if to say the word ‘b … ut’.
“But what, Mart ? But that’s not one of your fantasies ? I couldn’t give a damn, frankly. You’ll wear them whenever I say.”
That afternoon, she fed him a huge bowl of cold tinned beans, raisins and pasta, washed down with several large glasses of prune juice. By the evening, he had already asked her twice for permission to use the bathroom.
Both times permission was denied.
At 7.30 p.m., as soon as he’d finished preparing her supper, she took him upstairs to her bedroom.
“For a while, we’re going to put you on an ‘early to bed’ routine. I’ve got some socialising to do. I want you out of the way. And you’ve got some training to undergo. So, brush your teeth and undress.”
She opened up a diaper and spread it out on the bed.
He lay down while she unlocked his Gerecke tube and then folded the diaper, sticking it into position. She tapped him when she’d finished.
“Let me be clear, Mart. This isn’t about filling your diaper. Far from it. Do that and I’ll be livid. It’s about control. The diaper’s only there in case you lose it. Is that perfectly clear ?”
He looked up at her, wide-eyed. Very slowly he nodded agreement.
Kelly gave an approving chuckle.
It would be interesting. She didn’t think he had a chance. Mart had been regular as clockwork as long as she’d known him. Every morning and most evenings his bowels had moved. It would be fascinating to see if she could retrain him. Winner takes all. And she held all the aces.
Two minutes later, she’d closed the bed down for the night with Mart spreadeagled in the dark void below her mattress. She looked forward to sleeping well that night.
But first, she had something to do.
Mart lay in the dark. He knew it was only just gone seven thirty and he’d be stuck down here at least 12 hours, probably more like 13-14. He already felt bloated. His tummy was emitting those growls. Left to his own devices, he’d already be thinking about visiting the bathroom, if not exactly desperate to go there yet. He knew he was in deep shit.
For a moment he smiled wryly at the metaphor.
He farted loudly, enjoying the release of gas from his swollen stomach. Slowly the stench seeped out of the sealed diaper and into the void.
It was going to be a long, uncomfortable night.
Jack put the phone down with a mystified but happy grin.
He’d been separated a year now and his sex life hadn’t exactly been hopping. To be honest, he was still scared of any sort of commitment and the few single ladies around his age were the opposite. They wanted the full works, rings and wedding bells.
Until Kelly.
Wow. Talk about an offer out of the blue. He’d seen her at Nick’s on New Year’s Eve and she looked hot. Lost a few pounds, sexed up her image. Sure he’d heard the rumours. Years ago, he’d fancied her and he thought she liked him too, but it hadn’t gone anywhere. She met Mart and he met Joanne, his ex. Then the phone goes and she doesn’t beat around the bush. Pretty much serves herself up on a plate to him.
Just a few rules, she says.
Well, he can live with a few rules.
Kelly made a few more calls, drank a little too much wine, watched a movie, and it was after midnight by the time she got to bed. She sat on the toilet and flicked through the new issue of Vogue. Once in bed, she pulled out ‘James’ and gave herself a nice, quick, ‘sleeping tablet climax’. Soon after, she was away with the fairies.
The bedside clock glowed 08.44 when she blinked at it next morning. A weak winter sun filtered through a gap in the curtains.
Eight solid hours. Mmm. She yawned and stretched her limbs.
It took a few moments for her to come round properly and be certain. The faint whiff in the air was unmistakeable.
His Low Flush beaten by her Four Aces !
She threw open the bedroom windows and slipped into her gown. Mart could stew in his juice for a while. She went down and poured herself a grapefruit juice, made an expresso. It felt good to have the place to herself in the morning, without Mart bumbling about doing chores.
It was crisp, cold outside, the sky a piercing blue. When Spring arrived she’d move him back out to the shed. Until then he could sometimes spend a few extra hours staked under the bed out of her way.
It was past midday when she opened it up and released him. The smell was mostly contained by the diaper. But she caught the distinctive ammoniac notes of urine along with the core fragrance of faeces.
“Out.” She said. “Clean up. Then ice cold shower.”
Ten minutes later, he was stood, chilled and shrivelled. She watched him fasten his Gerecke back on and dress in a new outfit she’d bought.
“Now get on and prepare lunch.” She ordered, coldly. “For three of us, we have a guest, er … coming.” The innuendo hung heavy in the air, ripe with meaning.
“Looking good.” Jack said, his grey eyes eating her up.
“Feeling good.” She replied, pecking him on the cheek.
It was as normal a lunch as possible, considering one person was wearing a pink tutu with white stockings, ballet pumps and a pink bonnet. Especially as that person was male, 42 years old, and the husband of the hostess.
Mart served, cleared, but also ate with them. He listened and joined in the conversation when invited by Kelly.
“Please don’t burden us with loads of questions, Jack.” She said, once they’d sat down and started eating. “Just accept things the way they are.”
“Sure.” He beamed.
Kelly returned his smile encouragingly.
“As I said on the phone, I’m not looking for a boyfriend, a lover, a relationship. That doesn’t work. Not for me, anyway. I don’t want jealousy either. You see I’m looking for maybe more than one … guy at once.”
Jack hadn’t objected to anything she said so far. He just raised an eyebrow. His face was still ruggedly handsome, with an easy smile, strong jaw and a few lines round his eyes. He had self confidence but Kelly had always noticed his shyness with women. It was best if she took the initiative.
“I’m interested in you being my first guy, Jack. You know, if we both get on.”
“I’d … love to be.” He croaked, glancing at Mart.
“And Mart would love that too, wouldn’t you ?”
“Yes.” His voice was little more than a whisper.
There was silence for five seconds as they each digested the moment.
“Just so that we’re clear, Jack. I’m not looking for a Master for Mart. Or a Bull, I think people call them. Some guy trying to boss him or us around. As you can see …”
She gestured to Mart’s outfit and her empty glass. She waited while he rose and refilled hers, then Jack’s.
“… I am more than capable of bossing him around on my own.”
“To be honest, I’d prefer that. I don’t want to … humiliate my old mate.”
She chuckled. “Well, hopefully you will humiliate him. Just by being here. That’s what we both want, isn’t is Mart ?”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember when we met, Mart ? You didn’t like Jack at first, did you ? You thought he was ‘sniffing me like a dog’. Do you remember using that phrase back then ?”
“No ! Did he ?” Jack laughed.
“Yes.” Mart shrugged.
“Well, I think you should apologise. And then reassure Jack nicely that any time he’s here, your house, your things, your wife are his to enjoy.”
They both watched Mart dry-swallow, his adam’s apple bobbing.
“Er … sorry Jack.”
“No.” Kelly interrupted. “I know I said, no ‘Master stuff’. But I do think you should at least call him ‘Sir’ from now on.”
She watched Mart cringe, a heat rash mottling his chest, the red merging with the pink of the tutu. It was January but a shine of perspiration glistened at his temples underneath the ridiculous Bo-Peep bonnet.
“I’m sorry, Sir. Please …”
Kelly leaned over and kissed Jack full on the mouth as her husband spoke. Jack responded, tentatively at first.
“… I er … feel free when you’re here. You know, to … help yourself.”
Kelly moaned as Jack’s tongue probed between her lips.
“I think you and I will take our coffee in the other room.”
Mart knocked timidly on the living room door. He was holding a tray with coffees, milk, sugar and some expensive chocolates.
“Enter.”
He saw Kelly separating from a kiss as he entered. Jack was flushed, a couple of his shirt buttons undone.
“Put it down on the table. Then leave us. I’ve left you a note on my desk.”
He laid down the tray and then curtseyed at her.
But she’d already turned back to suck Jack’s face.
He walked to the door.
“Mmuh …” he heard her breaking off again, “… er … leave the door ajar.”
He found the note, along with blank paper and five coloured crayons. They were next to a pink envelope, sealed and labelled ‘private’.
The note said, ‘Mart, while I get reacquainted with Jack, I want you to write out lines, using these pencils. You must write fast but neatly’.
my Darling Wife, i hope you are having a wonderful time with our old friend while I write this as a love letter to you.
‘There are 25 words to a line. Use each colour alternately, one word at a time.’
He sighed and sat down.
He arranged the first sheet of paper in landscape format.
He picked up the blue crayon and wrote ‘my’.
Then he picked up the yellow and wrote ‘Darling’.
‘Wife’ in red.
‘i’ in pink.
‘hope’ in green.
And then ‘you’ in blue.
He completed the first line and looked at it appraisingly.
Then started on the second.
He’d finished 18 lines when he first heard Kelly squeal.
It was a noise she never made with him. In the honest and open conversations they’d had over Christmas, she had admitted it was nothing to do with his skill at making love. Or even the other men. It was simply the situation. Yes, she said, in their way, Alain and James had been good, very good, studs but it was not the physical act that blew her mind. Instead, it was the mental thing going on in her head. In a strange way she felt she was still having sex with Mart, but using a surrogate partner. And some of the time she found that to be so much more exciting than actually doing it with Mart in person.
The truth ?
It was what he wanted to believe.
Yet not what he wanted to fantasise.
He cocked his ear, listening out for male noises, through the doorway.
Had Jack already cum ? Or was he about to ? Had she made him wear a condom ? He was a good bet for being STD free. They’d agreed that decision would always be Kelly’s. He couldn’t blank out the picture of his wife’s pussy swimming with cum, the bitter aftertaste of his ‘defeat’ by another man. The telltale scent of fishy goings-on.
He realised he’d spent a minute without doing any lines.
He started writing as fast as he could trying to catch up.
A male shout of ‘yes’ and a long groan answered his question.
Kelly lay back on the sofa exhausted and waved bye to Jack.
“Phew.” She said. “Get Mart to see you out. I’ll call you soon.”
“Great.” He blew a kiss at her. “Any time.”
She let her head fall back and shut her eyes.
In truth, it had gone even better than she hoped. Jack had taken her lead, not trying to get her to do things she didn’t want to. He’d been polite, sweet, but in good shape as well. All in all, a good fuck buddy. Above all, he was happy to be like her new vibrator.
Her ‘jack-in-the-box’ !
She could take him out whenever she wanted to play.
“Mart !”
He appeared at the doorway, seconds later.
“Jack gone ?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Get down between my legs.”
She shut her eyes again and felt his hot breath on her.
“Lick me clean.”
His soft mouth nuzzled her sodden labia, tongue sliding inside.
“Don’t try to bring me off, Mart. Jack did that perfectly. Just clean me up.”
It was five thirty. He served her a cup of tea, showing her his lines:
Fifty four identical lines of 25 words in five colours.
my Darling Wife, i hope you are having a wonderful time with our old friend while I write this as a love letter to you.
She barely glanced at them, just dropped them disdainfully onto the tray.
“Yes, I did have a wonderful time. But I’m bored of sex and bdsm now.”
He looked at her, green eyes portraying confusion.
“Fetch the pink envelope from my desk.”
He came back with the sealed envelope labelled ‘private’.
“Open it.”
He fingered the flap open and pulled out two printed white cards.
Two tickets to the Rolling Stones concert.
She watched his eyes catching the time and date.
8.00 p.m. Today !
He looked at her, heart pumping. For twenty years they’d talked about seeing the Stones together. But due to one thing and another, never managed it.
She smiled.
“I think you’d better hurry and put some normal clothes on. We need to leave in fifteen minutes.”
He bit his lip. Obviously wondering if she was teasing ?
“M … me ?” he pointed his index finger at his chest.
“Of course, you Mart.” She replied softly. “Who the heck else do you think I’d rather see the Stones with, than my husband ?”
And their eyes locked in a stare of complete love and sudden understanding.
End of Part Seven
To be continued in Part Eight (February)
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