[Author’s note: Alice is married to James, a professional football player who has found himself at a loose end after retiring from the sport. After attending a charity auction in which she was outbid for her own husband, Alice and James have been blackmailed into service by Jodie and her upper-echelon friends. They have no choice but to do her bidding, letting Jodie pimp James out to clients, otherwise she will release the videos she took.]
—
SISTERS
We pulled into the car park, down the ramp into the basement level. There was a section against the far wall, and that’s where we parked, deep under the mall.
“No phone signal,” James observed, “Not down here.”
“Yeah.”
“I feel like James Bond.”
James gave me a sidelong glance. I said nothing.
“This is where you say I look like James Bond.”
I didn’t rise to the bait, crossing my legs and regretting it immediately as I felt the wire tug.
“Shit,” I hissed, shuffling in my seat.
“You should do that at home.”
“Like, when? At what point do I get to sit down for more than five minutes without interruptions?” I snapped.
“Okay, Alice. Sorry. Geez.”
I smoothed my hands down my skirt, conscious of the little wire dangling between my knees plugged into the car’s charging port. I let out a long breath.
“Sorry,” I muttered, “That was uncalled for.”
“It’s okay, Alice.”
“No, it’s not. It’s what she wants.”
I recalled Jodie’s little barbs, probing the cracks between us, trying to drive in a wedge. Even stood in my transparent latex dress with my hands glued inside the slick black gloves to the drinks tray, turned into a table while I watched women fucking my husband, I’d resolved what I was going to do when I got home. Jodie wanted us to keep secrets from each other, but I’d told him everything, straight away.
James had fumed silently for the rest of the night, still trying to get his head together, clouded by the drugs, and I’d let him be. It took him until the next morning to articulate the words. He’d just looked me in the eyes and told me: no more secrets. Then, I’d raised the hem of my nightie to reveal the belt she’d locked in place, giving him a good look at Jodie’s revenge on me.
I stared down at my knees glumly. James reached over and put a hand on one knee, brushing the wire to one side. He gave me a little squeeze.
“I love you,” he said.
“Me too. I’m just….”
My voice trailed off and I detached his hand gently.
“That’s not helping,” I chided, softly, “It’s making it worse.”
I didn’t look up at him, I didn’t need to. I knew what he’d do if I did and I really didn’t want him to smile at me and tell me it was going to be okay. I needed something else, I’d needed it for weeks, and it was off the menu.
“She’s late,” I observed.
“Five minutes, give her time.”
“I guess I’d better, uh….”
“Yeah. Is it charged enough?”
“I guess so.”
I rolled my skirt up, shuffling in the passenger seat until the space between my legs was exposed. The hard, slatted rubber of the belt nestled there, a wretched, unwanted thing, locked in place, sealing me up. Beneath, thanks to something as trivial as my husband’s hand on my knee, I could feel myself moistening slightly, the background denial triggered again by his touch. I reached down to tug the end of the charging cord from the little port in the top of the belt, pressing the little rubber plug back into place.
My fingers lingered over the thick rubber, feeling the little vertical grooves cut into it to allow me to go to the toilet, to soak myself clean in the bath, to do all the natural things, save one. I was locked up unable to enjoy my husband sliding into me, the thing that I had taken for granted for all these years. Now, after Jodie had threaded my key onto her necklace, taking control of my sex, it was all I could think about. I found myself daydreaming around the house, snapping back to reality when I felt that single insistent urge, the itch I couldn’t scratch.
James had wanted to get the bolt cutters from the shed, but Willow’s warning had come back to me then, that a harsher punishment awaited for non-compliance. It hadn’t been what Jodie had said, it had been the look in Willow’s eyes when she confessed that she’d removed her own belt and had then had her behaviour corrected. I didn’t know exactly what she’d meant; all I knew was that I didn’t want to ever find out.
So, the belt had become part of our daily routine, an unwanted guest in the family. It had its own needs, throbbing insistently when the little built-in vibrator pad was low on charge, needing to be fed. I had decided out of spite not to acquiesce, but the belt insisted, buzzing periodically, never enough to get me off but just enough to heat me up. I’d managed to hold out for three hours with the belt showing no signs of relenting, before I plugged in the charging cable and gave it what it wanted. I spent the rest of the day with urgent cravings for my husband’s manhood and a migraine headache.
The rest of the time, the belt was benign. I could go to the toilet easily enough: the thin slits in the front cup allowed liquids through without being wide enough for me to prise apart to gain access. The back strap was wide and surprisingly comfortable, splitting into a wide ring over my rear entrance to let me go to the toilet as normal. I even found sometimes that I’d gone for hours without thinking about it, as if my body had come to accept the devious constraint upon it that Jodie had imposed.
Jodie didn’t mention the belt when we spoke, almost as if it was of no consequence to her. On the occasions I brought it up her answer was always the same: she would unlock me when she was sure we were on the same team. I’d asked her how I could prove that, and she’d merely smiled. I had managed to keep my expression neutral, but I hated her for that. My only solace was that I didn’t let her see, I hadn’t given her the satisfaction of knowing what her device was doing to me.
“Heads up.”
I pulled my skirt down quickly, looking around. Across the car park, a Mercedes had just pulled in. James opened his door and got out. I opened my door too, going around the car to join him. The driver’s door of the Mercedes opened and Fee stepped out.
“Here we go,” James murmured.
Fee strode across the concrete to us, smiling.
“Hi,” she said, “How are you?”
“Same as usual,” I grumbled.
“Well, at least no worse.”
“I guess.”
She came to a halt, smiling breezily.
“So,” I continued, “This is very cloak-and-dagger.”
“Barton’s idea, just in case you’re being monitored.”
“Monitored?” I snorted, “What?”
“If she put something on your phones.”
“She hasn’t,” I retorted, “I’d have seen.”
Fee smiled wryly back at me.
“I could tell, I’m sure,” I continued.
“Look, maybe you need another phone. One she doesn’t know about. One she never gets access to.”
For a moment, I felt an awful, clammy sensation. The phone in my bag, the belt around my crotch, all working against me, monitoring and controlling me, reporting everything back to Jodie. Was the belt only set to vibrate via remote control, or was it listening to the changes in my body? Was it letting Jodie know exactly when I was angry, or sleepy or horny?
“So,” Fee said, turning to James, “Did you get it?”
“Yeah,” James nodded, “I made a bit of a big deal about the booking, and she gave it to Alice.”
We were on our way to an afternoon in an apartment in the next suburb. All that Jodie had told us were their names, Skye and Stacey, and that they wanted my husband for the entire afternoon, as many times as they wanted. Jodie had passed me a little coloured square, wrapped in tissue paper. I fished it out of my handbag and gave it to Fee.
“So, this is the wonder drug?” Fee exclaimed.
“That’s it. There’s enough soaked on there for James,” I told her, “It’s by bodyweight.”
“Yeah, Barton thought as much.”
“What are you going to do with it?”
“He’s going to run it by a guy he knows. He’s in forensics these days, wants to get a breakdown, see if there are any telltales.”
Fee slipped the tissue into her purse.
“It’s all pieces of the jigsaw.”
“And how’s the jigsaw looking?” I asked.
“Incomplete. We need all the pieces, Alice, if we’re going to crack this. Barton thinks it’s a ring. We need to make sure they get everyone. We can’t let even one of these bastards escape, not with everything they have stashed on us all.”
She shrugged.
“Barton’s talking to people. It’s going to take time. We just need one more thing.”
“What?”
“I don’t know. Neither does he. A catalyst. Something that brings it all together, something the cops can pounce on.”
She grinned at us conspiratorially.
“Then we grind these fuckers into the dust.”
—
The address was in a newer part of the city, among regimented streets of six-storey apartment blocks, each with a coffee shop and a bakery on every other corner.
“This used to be the pulp mill, back in the day,” James observed, “Lumber yards and train tracks. My grandfather used to work here.”
“Changed a lot.”
“Yeah, and not for the better.”
We found a parking spot on the street and made our way though the glass doors of one of the almost identical buildings to the elevators. James punched a button for the sixth floor.
“They probably sold this as a penthouse,” James grumbled, “With stunning views across the street at the penthouse opposite.”
“You okay?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’m good. It’s all good.”
“Nervous?”
“Nah.”
James watched the numbers counting slowly upwards.
“Look, yeah, maybe. It’s a whole afternoon.”
I opened my purse and extracted a little pad of tissue paper, unwrapping it carefully. The elevator pinged and the doors opened. We stepped out.
“Nah,” James said, looking down at my hand.
“If you need it, you need it.”
I looked down too, at the sliver of coloured paper I’d shaved off the sample we’d given to Fee.
“It’s not a full dose, but it’s enough to….”
“I said no, Alice. Put it away. I can get through this.”
He looked up the corridor, then back at me.
“Fuck knows, I need, uh, shit, sorry. I’m sorry Alice, that’s not fair on you. I know you’re doing your best.”
I didn’t dare look up at him, concentrating on folding up the little remnant of Jodie’s paper and placing it safely back in my purse. I didn’t have to say anything. We’d already said it all, cuddled up in bed at night, feeling him spooning my back, feeling his erection pressing against my skin. We’d progressed from hand jobs, to oral, each step a little more humiliating for me, to be only able to pleasure the man I loved that way.
It just wasn’t the same. There was release for him, but not that deep sense of connection for me, the moment afterwards where I basked in my afterglow with my husband still inside me, our bodies mated. Now, cuddling just made the unwavering ache in my crotch even worse, the frustration mounting each time. The last time, I’d heard him drift off to sleep afterwards, his arms still around me, and I’d laid awake for an hour, burning for release. I had very quietly cried myself to sleep.
I followed in my husband’s wake as he arrived at the door. He knocked.
“Here we go,” he breathed.
A young woman opened the door, flashing brown eyes with long lashes, delicate face framed by tumbling dark hair over bare brown shoulders.
“James?” she asked.
“Yes,” my husband replied, “And this is Alice.”
“Alice. How do you do? Nice to meet you. Please, do come in.”
I was taken aback by the young woman’s formality, but we followed along behind her as she led us into the apartment. She was barefoot, a dark dress swishing around her knees, glancing back at us with those wide, sensual eyes.
We were brought through to a balcony, where another woman rose from a lounge chair to greet us. She too had the same wide eyes, the same delicate face, dark hair falling over brown shoulders.
“Hello,” she said, “I’m Shriya.”
“Oh no,” the other woman admonished, “I’m sorry, her name is Stacey. I’m Skye.”
Skye shot a look at the other woman, who seemed to hesitate.
“Yes, my name is Stacey. Pleased to meet you.”
“James,” my husband announced, “Alice.”
The woman who had identified herself as Stacey frowned, looking at me.
“I’m going to let you talk,” I said, “I’ll go find a spot somewhere.”
Stacey nodded, replying, “Of course, of course. Would you like some refreshments? A little tea perhaps? Ami… uh, Skye, would you see to her?”
Skye tapped me on the arm, indicating that I should follow.
“Let’s see what we have for you, come though.”
I found myself following behind Skye, leaving James on the balcony in the sun with the other woman. They both sat down on the couch.
“She’s a little nervous. She’ll need to have a chat before we get started. Let me get you some tea or something, and we can leave them to it for a few moments.”
The apartment was open plan, and Skye led us into the kitchen area. I could see my husband through the glass, nodding as Stacey asked him something.
“Darjeeling?”
I turned back to Skye, mumbling, “Uh, yes. Sounds nice.”
“I have Earl Grey, or any number of blends.”
“No, that’s fine.”
Skye nodded, setting the kettle to boil and arranging cups on saucers. I watched her work, pulling out a tray, setting the teapot in the middle, spooning the tea leaves.
“You’ve done this before,” I observed.
“The tea?” Skye replied, not looking up, “Or the sex?”
I was shocked at the directness of her tone. She glanced up at me and laughed.
“Yes, I’ve done the tea a lot. Also, sex. My family is quite progressive.”
“Your sister seems less so.”
Skye smiled to herself, holding a hand up demurely to hide the curve of her lips.
“Sorry, did I say something?” I enquired.
“Oh, she would love that. You should say that to her.”
“Which part? That she’s less certain.”
“No, the sister part. That’s exactly what she needs to hear. Really, that’s why we’re doing this.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Don’t worry about it Alice. It’s just that, uh, how can I put this, I’ve grown up able to date whomever I want, see boys, choose. This isn’t for me. I can go onto the apps and find someone.”
“This is for your sister, then?”
“She grew up differently. She was betrothed at thirteen, it was all arranged. She’s never had this.”
“So she’s not your sister?”
Skye laughed again, picking up the tray carefully.
“No, she’s my Maa.”
I looked from Skye’s smiling face to the woman sitting with my husband outside, the resemblance striking between the two women.
“She had me very young,” Skye continued, “Like I said, it was all arranged.”
We joined James and Stacey outside. Skye placed the tea tray on a low table and began to pour, handing the first cup to her mother. I caught myself watching them both. They could easily have been sisters; there was an easy familiarity between them, as Stacey acknowledged the cup from Skye. Part of me regretted that they’d chosen aliases, seeking anonymity. There was an ingrained conservatism about them that was entirely at odds with the reason we were here.
Skye handed the next cup to James, deferring to the man in the gathering, before serving me. I took a sip, waiting for the women to speak.
“So, I was thinking,” Skye began, “We just need to be sure of a few things first.”
“Shoot,” James replied.
“Obviously, we need this to be discreet.”
“Of course.”
“Also, we need to know that you’ll respect boundaries.”
Her gaze shifted to me. I felt the need to reply.
“We can negotiate before we get into it,” I said, “If there are certain things you had in mind. If you had certain, uh, roles you wanted to explore.”
The words felt alien, and there was a part of me that couldn’t believe I was saying those things. But, like the two women, I had a fixed interest in laying down the parameters of the engagement, defining what they would be allowed to do with my husband. I was aware that James was watching me carefully.
“For example, if you were interested in certain things, we would have to set that out at the start.”
“Certain things?” Stacey echoed.
“Ah, I don’t think we’ll be requiring that,” Skye cut in.
“Wait a minute. I need to know first,” Stacey replied, “What are we talking about?”
Skye gave her a little smile, replying, “Oh, she’s asking if we want to try blindfolds and gags, or bondage, or spanking. Things like that.”
Stacey’s eyes widened in shock.
“That’s what they’re here for,” Skye reminded her, “Whatever we want.”
“I’m sure I don’t want any of those things. Do you?”
Skye laughed, “I’m just saying. Now, you’re free to try new things if you want.”
“Your Pita would never have done those things,” Stacey replied, “The thought of it.”
To my surprise, Skye’s face softened. When she spoke next, it was in a gentle voice.
“You can, though,” she murmured, “You can, for you. He wouldn’t but you might, there are so many things to explore. It’s a new world now, it’s the rest of your life.”
She reached out and laid a hand on the other woman’s knee.
“I’ll go first, how’s that? Then you can go after. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Skye nodded to her and then turned her attention to me.
“Also, the matter of protection,” she said.
“James will wear protection at all times,” I assured her.
“Good,” Stacey replied, seeming relieved.
Skye placed her cup down on the tray carefully and then stood. She smoothed down her dress, facing James.
“Shall we make a start?” Skye asked.
James set his cup down also and rose to his feet.
“Lead on,” he said.
Skye headed back inside. James followed behind, resting his hand on my shoulder momentarily, giving me a little squeeze as he left. I turned my attention back to Stacey.
“You’re married, aren’t you?” she stated.
“Yes,” I replied.
“How long have you been together?”
“Nearly fifteen years.”
Stacey nodded to herself.
“Same,” she replied.
“Not anymore?”
Stacey drained her cup, setting it down, her fingers playing with the delicate crockery, arranging it carefully.
“No,” she said, “Not anymore. I’ve been superseded.”
“Ah.”
“Yes, that was my first thought too.”
She looked up from the tea tray, settling her gaze on me.
“Do you mind if I ask a question, Alice?”
“No.”
Stacey frowned for a moment, entwining her fingers in her lap.
“How do you do it?”
“This?”
“Yes, this. I mean, James, with other women. How do you bear it?”
Her words drove a spike through me, all of a sudden. I had expected to have to cope with something different from this, I hadn’t expected these questions from the woman who had hired my husband to fuck her. I began to realise that this was all by Skye’s arrangement.
“I love him,” I confessed, simply.
“And still you let him sleep with other women.”
“No, that’s just it. He sleeps with me.”
“I see.”
“It makes a difference.”
“Yes. But, I still can’t understand how you can separate this from that. It’s so very intimate.”
“We manage. We trust each other very much.”
“Your relationship must be very strong to have survived this.”
“It is. I can honestly say that it’d take, oh, I don’t know, an asteroid strike to separate us at this point.”
Stacey lapsed into silence, looking down at her hands, her face softening. I didn’t want to pry, but I could see that thoughts were racing through her head.
“I wish,” she muttered, breaking the silence at last, “I wish I’d had that.”
Stacey shrugged, frowning again.
“This is the idea. What is that awful phrase? Getting back on the horse,” Stacey laughed to herself, “I can’t abide horses.”
Her gaze flicked up to me suddenly.
“This just feels very disrespectful, Alice. We have done you a disservice, taking your husband away from you.”
In another room, I was certain that James was naked now. He would be working his way down Skye’s body, fully erect. He’d slip inside her soon, powering away until he’d brought her to orgasm, like he did with me. At least, like he used to do with me, before the belt, I thought bitterly.
All of this was going to be for nothing, though, if Stacey sat in front of me and talked herself out of the thing her daughter had arranged for her. There was something awful and lost in the eyes of the woman opposite me, something that came from being given to a man before she was old enough to understand men, being shaped by that relationship and then finally abandoned. I cleared my throat.
“It’s okay, Stacey. I don’t mind.”
I couldn’t believe that I’d said it, but the lie felt like a little white one, not the crushing, overwhelming guilt that it had been when we’d first been pressed into service. I knew who the enemy was, and it wasn’t the two women in this apartment.
“When I was first introduced to my husband,” Stacey said, “I had a chaperone. Someone who I knew would make sure that nothing went too far. It was easy. I felt safe. This is very different.”
“I can, if you like.”
Stacey hesitated. I could see the uncertainty in her face.
“Your daughter’s right. You could make use of this opportunity,” I continued, “It’s okay, if it’s going to make you happy, then it’s a good thing.”
Stacey grimaced, and when she replied, her voice rasped with sudden emotion, “Yes, Alice, I would like to feel happy. I would like that very much.”
We sipped our tea, making light conversation, as if Stacey was trying not to think about what was about to happen. I could tell how nervous she was, and when the bedroom door opened, her eyes went suddenly wide, startled.
James emerged first, with a towel wrapped around his waist, followed by Skye in a flowing silk nightgown. Her hair was in tangled disarray, strands plastered to her forehead, her cheeks still flushed.
“I’ll get some water,” James said, moving into the kitchen area while Skye came over to join us.
I watched my husband’s broad back as he filled a glass, downing it in one. My attention turned to Skye and I felt a pang of envy, seeing the smile on her face, knowing that she had just received a thorough fucking from my husband. Skye’s attention was focused, however, on her mother, a question passing silently between them.
A moment later, James joined us on the balcony. I couldn’t help but notice the sheen of perspiration on his chest, the smile as he greeted the women again. It curdled something inside of me, way worse than before now that I was continually frustrated by the belt, but also in a dark way it was more delicious, the feeling of being neglected while he satisfied other women. Skye and her mother were both beautiful, worthy of his attention. The little green-eyed monster within me surged into life.
I choked that feeling back, trying to remain composed as I turned to my husband.
“Stacey would like a little company,” I told him.
Stacey nodded shyly.
“Strength in numbers,” I continued.
“Fair enough,” James replied, then, “Shall we?”
James took Stacey by the hand and led her to the bedroom. I opened the door for them both, but Stacey paused on the threshold, looking back at her daughter, giving her a tiny smile. Skye grinned back, and we entered the bedroom. I closed the door behind us, leaving Skye behind, still smiling.
The bedroom wasn’t huge. There was a queen-sized bed, a couple of bedside tables, a screen fixed to the opposite wall, a chair in the corner, a door that led through to an ensuite bathroom. It all looked very functional.
“So,” Stacey murmured, “What do we do now?”
“Whatever you like,” James replied easily, “It’s your show.”
“Okay.”
There was an awkward pause. James stood in the middle of the room in just a towel.
“Why don’t I rinse off first?” he suggested.
“Okay.”
James took that as his cue, walking over to the ensuite door. He stopped and called over his shoulder.
“Why don’t you come along and watch?”
I couldn’t believe that James had said that, and Stacey stiffened immediately. James glanced at me, too.
“Both of you.”
He slipped into the ensuite and I followed, spurring Stacey into motion as well, following along behind. James appeared to have a plan, and I was just going to have to go along with it.
In the ensuite, James made a show of turning the water on, testing it with his hand until it was hot. When he was satisfied, he turned to us both and undid the towel from his waist, exposing himself. My eyes went directly to his flaccid manhood, hanging between his legs, then I stole a glance at Stacey, noting that she was staring too. When I looked back at James, he was smiling. He knew exactly what he was doing, I realised.
“I could use some help, I can’t reach my back.”
Stacey didn’t move, rooted to the spot.
“Just come in and give me a wash, it’s all you need to do.”
“I….”
“You can take off your clothes and come in here with me. Nothing’s going to happen that you don’t want,” James continued, “You’re in charge.”
Those last words spurred a change in her, and she nodded curtly.
“I’m in charge,” she echoed.
“Alice, you stay as you are. I only need Stacey in here.”
I found myself nodding too, and I knew the meaning behind his words, the way he was laying down the parameters of the game, creating a safe space for the nervous woman standing next to me. But, the word themselves bit into me, the idea that my own husband had relegated me to a bystander as he was preparing to have sex with another woman. The more I went over his words, the more they felt like an order, that I was being ordered to stand quietly and watch him fuck someone else.
I could feel the heat in my cheeks, burning with shame, but there was another heat, deep in my core, a twisted, gorgeous feeling of being dismissed and relegated to a supporting character in my husband’s games, forbidden to do anything but watch helplessly as he satisfied himself with Stacey.
Stacey began to strip, her eyes never leaving my husband’s naked form, letting he dress pool around her ankles, exposing plain black underwear. She stalled, but James approached her, taking charge now, his eyes glittering. As his hands unclasped her bra, I wished that it was me. As his fingers slid her panties down her legs, I was filled with the irresistible urge to tear the belt from my crotch and bare myself fully for him. I could feel my moistness, locked securely away behind the implacable rubber panel secured tightly over me.
James took the naked woman by the hand and led her into the shower, letting the water cascade over their skin. His attention was fixed solely on her, looking down at her bare body, cradling her cheek in his hand, tenderly, like he would do with me. I felt forgotten, superfluous, caught watching a moment of intimacy between two people. Stacey went up on her tiptoes, her eyes staring into his, and I braced myself for what was about to happen, strangling the urge to call out, to try and stop it, as her lips rose to meet his.
Stacey kissed James, and the moment of contact, of her soft lips on his, sent a spike of envy straight through me. The indecision was gone now; she was going to make love to my husband, and I felt my knees go weak at the prospect. Slowly, silently, I sagged down onto the toilet seat, trying desperately to erase myself from their awareness. This was so much worse, this was so much more intense, there was so much more fire in my groin, than any of the other times, and it was because of the look in Stacey’s eyes as she took her time, exploring my husband’s lips, stroking his chest. Stacey didn’t want a fuck, she was going to make love to him.
The water tumbled over them both; her hand slid down my husband’s front, over the rippled terrain of his abdomen, down between his legs. For all her demure appearance, the woman in front of me knew what she wanted, released at last to explore and enjoy my husband’s body. I could see her fingers wrap around his shaft, pumping gently until James was fully erect. Her fingers played over his tip, breaking off the kiss at last to look down at the effect she was having on him.
James took her small breasts in his hands, massaging them, trapping her dark, thick nipples between his fingers and squeezing lightly, making her gasp. He dropped slowly to his knees, looking up at her, the water cascading in rivulets off his chin. Once again, he was asking a question, and Stacey answered by running a hand through his sodden hair.
Side-on, I could see my husband’s face, the rapt attention as his eyes fixed on Stacey’s crotch, his fingers playing through the triangle of her pubic hair. Like the kiss, I knew what was coming, I knew what it would feel like to have his lips touch her there, to feel his tongue worming its way between her folds and sliding into her. I crossed my legs, feeling the hard rubber digging into me, pressed hard against my sopping crotch, squirming, feeling tiny amounts of friction as I tried to grind the unyielding cup against myself. My husband’s face drew closer to Stacey’s crotch, and I was helpless to do anything but stare.
He kissed her, his jaw moving in time, and I knew his tongue was inside her now. The delicious ache in my own crotch spiked, becoming unbearable. It had been weeks for me, starved of even the lightest touch, now forced to watch a stranger receiving what I had always taken for granted. Surreptitiously, my hand cupped my breast through the material of my dress. I lifted my breast free of my bra, locating the rigid point of my nipple through the fabric.
Stacey’s body began to writhe, right in front of me, her eyes closed and her throat emitting low grunting noises as James worked on her pussy. I wanted to be there instead, I desperately wanted to be the woman in the shower with James between my legs, with his tongue deep inside me, with his lips around my clit. Muscle memory flooded back, replaying how it felt, and I squeezed my distended nipple mercilessly, sending a spike of pain and pleasure directly down into my clit.
My body arched, and I clamped my jaws shut, trying to strangle the cry as I tipped over into sympathetic orgasm, eyes locked on Stacey’s body as she began to shudder and quake too, reaching her crest. I squeezed my nipple and came again, feeling the flood of release and then the moisture seeping through the slats of my belt, dampening my legs, spoiling the back of my dress. It was a shallow, vicarious climax, a pale comparison to what I could have experienced with James thrusting inside me, but after weeks of abstinence it felt glorious, like a feast. I shuddered again, then I saw James.
He was staring at me, water running down his face, kneeling in the shower with a towering erection, his head purple and distended. He’d seen what I’d done, what I’d brought myself to, and I felt at once utterly ashamed and completely liberated, all at the same time. I looked into those sea-grey eyes and knew that he knew my secret, the need that I had discovered to watch him, to see him bring pleasure to strangers.
He rose to his feet, shutting off the water, taking Stacey by the hand. He didn’t say anything, leading her out of the ensuite into the bedroom. Her hair was wet, dripping onto the carpet, but he pushed her back onto the bed. She sprawled across the sheets, spread wide for him, her attention focused on his massive erection, a little, anxious look on her face.
“Alice.”
I got to my feet, stumbling after them, conscious of the way my dress stuck to the back of me.
“Protection.”
I looked up at him, but his expression was stern, almost ruthless. It wasn’t a question, it was an order. I scrambled to comply, producing a little foil square and ripping it open.
“Put it on.”
I stared at him, stunned by the commanding tone in his voice. This was still a game, but the rules had changed, and I was scrambling to keep up. I went down on my knees in front of him and took his manhood in one hand, feeling how firm he was in my fingers. Whatever we were doing, it had turned my husband on immensely. The way his eyes locked on mine, I was sure of only one thing: it had nothing to do with Stacey.
I rolled the sheath down his cock, all the way to his root, then felt him pull away from my grasp to position himself in front of the woman sprawled on the bed. He gave me one last look. I was still kneeling on the floor, my eyes level with his solid erection, but now superfluous to requirements as James prepared to fuck Stacey.
“Sit in the corner,” he growled, and I found myself scurrying to comply, taking the chair in the corner of the room, crossing my legs, closing my mouth, vowing myself to silence.
James turned to Stacey, climbing onto the bed, positioning himself over her. He bent down to give her a long, lingering kiss, then guided himself into her. For all her initial hesitancy, Stacey was now powerfully aroused, allowing James to slide all the way into her in a single stroke. She whimpered at the sensation of being completely filled by my husband’s rock-hard cock. James paused, scrutinising her.
“It’s okay,” she mumbled, “I’m okay.”
James withdrew gradually, making Stacey shiver. He slid back into her carefully, taking his time, letting her adjust to the sensation.
“Been a while?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Say if it hurts.”
“It doesn’t.”
I was silent in my little corner, invisible once more to the two people on the bed. James took his time with her, adjusting positions, keeping up a steady pace. Stacey responded willingly, letting James gather her legs up over his shoulders, lifting her groin so that he could drive himself more forcefully into her. She allowed him to break off, rolling her onto her front and pulling her up onto hands and knees so he could enter her from behind.
All the while, Stacey’s expression was earnest, focused on my husband’s face as he slid relentlessly into her, letting him dictate the pace. James seemed to be enjoying it also, bringing her close to orgasm and then shifting position again, until she began to let out little whimpers of dismay, until I could see the way she began to steel herself for the refusal even as she built up to orgasm.
All I could do was watch him toy with her, like he’d toyed with me in the past, bringing me mercilessly up to the brink and then refusing me my climax. James had already come once, with Skye, and his reserves of stamina were impressive, teasing and denying the woman on the bed until her eyes rolled back and she was forced into an exclamation.
“Please,” she hissed, “I need it.”
“Do you?”
“Yes, please James, please do it.”
The tone of her voice, the way she was pleading, engendered the same feeling in me, the need. I’d managed to climax in the bathroom, but it wasn’t enough, not after watching James playing with Stacey’s body on the bed. The deep, insistent urge was back, and I found that I was crossing my legs again, grinding the belt into me. My attention was fixed on James, waiting for the inevitable culmination.
He seemed to sense me watching, because he turned to look at me. Without saying anything to Stacey, he withdrew from her, moving her again, positioning her face-down on the bed, her rear high in the air, her face turned away from me. Verry carefully, James adjusted her position until he was kneeling between her legs, his tip nuzzling her slit. His eyes fixed on mine and at that same movement, he drove powerfully into the willing entrance of the woman arranged in front of him.
I felt the shock of his intrusion deep in my core, as if I was linked to her somehow. James began to pound into her, his large hands spread wide across her buttocks, fingers pressed into the brown skin, holding her firmly in place. He didn’t break eye contact with me, even as Stacey began to groan, her face pressed into the sheets, oblivious.
Mesmerised, I watched his long, powerful strokes, burying himself into the helpless woman on the bed. James was slaking his own need now, done playing the gracious host at this little party. This was the thing that Jodie had denied him too by belting me: the satisfaction of penetration. My hips began to rock in time with his thrusts, the heel of one hand pressing hard into the space between my legs, my free hand massaging my rigid nipple, tweaking hard, building my body up again.
My husband’s lips curled up into a snarl, his face like thunder now, reddened, perspiring, as he pounded into the woman on the bed. But all his attention was on me; I was caught in the headlights, unable to look away, taking in the view of my husband’s powerful, bare body, his rippling muscles, his cock disappearing into Stacey’s entrance over and over. He mouthed words to me, silently: I love you.
It triggered a surge deep within me, and I felt myself building as he glared at me, Stacey now long-forgotten between us. He bared his teeth, taking tiny breaths, the cords of his neck standing out. I was aware of a high noise, but it didn’t matter: Stacey was orgasming powerfully beneath his onslaught, irrelevant.
I squeezed myself hard, feeling the blood pulse in my nipple, my thighs lock with the tension of grinding the merciless belt into my groin, and somewhere in amongst all of that, I felt the delicious, familiar tightness in my core. My eyes rolled back in my head and I allowed the orgasm to sweep over me. Stacey screeched, and James cried out, but that was all somewhere in the distance, lost in the waves of my own climax as it rolled on and on.
—
[Next: In the final chapter, Alice struggles in chastity as she finds out who her friends and who are her enemies.
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