Content note: >!This story involves a person being punished nonconsensually by their partner(s) for misbehaving. Although the sex acts described involve at least nominal consent, there’s a lot of unwanted touching/constraint and the sex occurs in a coercive environment.!<
“What do you want from me?” I asked. I was still tied up to the chair in my kitchen, with my wife Clara standing beside me and my girlfriend Alex sitting across from me.
Alex shrugged. “I wasn’t all that into you, but once I found out you were cheating, well… let’s just say I’m along for the ride.”
I strained my neck to gaze up at Clara. “What about you?”
She lowered herself to be eye level with me. Her face was mere inches from my own. She gazed into my eyes, stroking my hair affectionately. “Oh, Steve,” she said. “I want to hurt you. I want to hurt you every bit as much as you’ve hurt me, and then some.”
A chill went down my spine. “Clara, I… I’m sorry I cheated. But people cheat all the time.”
“Not on me,” she replied. “Besides, you’ve done so much more than that. Or, I suppose, it’s more about what you haven’t done.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Steve,” she purred, “When was the last time you got me off?”
I squirmed. “You always seem to be having a good time when we have sex!”
In the background, I saw Alex roll her eyes.
“No, baby,” Clara said softly, a note of disappointment in her voice. “That’s not at all the same thing.” She stood up and turned to Alex. “See? This is what I’m talking about. He doesn’t listen. Doesn’t pay attention.”
I’d never seen Clara behave like this before. She’d always been so understanding, letting fuckup after fuckup slide. When I failed to pull out in time, she’d taken a deep breath, thrown on some clothes, and picked up Plan B, handling the ensuing nausea and bleeding like a champ. When I’d forgotten our anniversary back when we were dating, she’d laughed it off, having had a backup plan in store all along on the assumption I’d forget. Time and again I’d neglected to do the dishes, a major sticking point in our relationship, but Clara always did them eventually, and she always forgave me in the end.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
She turned back to me. “Not yet,” she said, “but you certainly will be.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s my fault, I suppose,” she said. “Like when a dog pees on the carpet. I simply haven’t trained you to do better.” For a moment her confident facade wavered, and I saw her glance over to Alex.
“Don’t worry about it,” Alex said. “I’ll teach you how.” Something passed between them then, a series of nonverbal cues I couldn’t process, and Clara relaxed. “Why don’t you put him away,” Alex suggested, “and we can take some time tonight to talk a bit more about what you want to do with him?”
Clara gave a sharp nod. “I’ll be right back,” she told me, and left the room.
“Alex,” I said, “this is crazy. Come on, untie me.”
“Not until Clara is ready,” she said. “Not until you’ve learned your lesson.”
Clara returned shortly with a leather collar and a leash. I wasn’t sure where she’d gotten it; we didn’t have a dog. She fit the collar firmly around my neck, locked it with a padlock, then clipped the leash to it. Still holding the leash, she untied my ankles. “Up,” she said simply.
“No,” I said, “this is crazy.”
Clara ignored me. “Up,” she repeated. This time, she tugged on the collar. Hard. I got up.
Clara led me to the guest bedroom upstairs, Alex following behind. My wife must have gone shopping while I was at work, because there, next to the telescope, was a large metal dog crate. “In,” she said.
“You’ll want him to strip first,” advised Alex, leaning against the wall. “He’ll have his cell phone on him, and who knows what else.” Clara gave a curt nod.
Alex stood and walked over to me. “Here, you know what? I’ll hold him. You undress him.” She took the leash from Clara and held the rope that wrapped around my still-cuffed hands.
Clara knelt before me in a matter-of-fact way and, in a deft gesture, undid my belt. She pulled my pants down, then my boxers. Unsure what else to do, I lifted each leg as she pulled them off my body, leaving my socks on. I stood there, my bottom half naked in front of my beautiful wife — who gazed at me with such contempt! — and my cock began to harden suddenly, sharply, in spite of myself.
“No,” said Clara simply, and the sensation died immediately.
Taking my shirt off, we all knew, would be more of an endeavor. I glanced briefly at the door, which was open. When they uncuffed me, I could push them off, maybe make a run for it… But Alex followed my gaze. “I’d better take this one,” she told Clara.
She pushed me face down onto the bed, kneeling on my back with one of her powerful legs, tying my leash to the bed frame. “I’m going to untie your hands,” she spoke into my ear. “But I wouldn’t advise trying anything. All I’ll have to do is apply pressure to this leash and your breathing will be cut off. Do you understand?”
I nodded. Alex reached under me, leg still pressed against my back, and skilfully unbound my wrists without even looking. As soon as my arms were free, she pressed down harder, pinning them under me with the full weight of her hefty body. Then she removed the leash from the bedframe, pulling it tight and wrapping it around her wrist several times. I gasped as the collar pressed against my neck. “Clara,” she called out, “spot me.” My wife appeared immediately beside the bed, and Alex handed her the leash. Then the powerful barista flipped me over, but kept me weighted down with a knee against my sternum. I struggled, tried to grab her, but Clara jerked the leash hard. With painstaking slowness, Alex undid each button of my shirt, then slid it off my shoulders. Almost tenderly she pulled each sleeve off my arm, then threw the shirt to the floor. When she was done, she nodded to Clara.
“All right,” said my wife, pointing to the dog crate. “Get in.”
I’d remained silent through most of the ordeal, uncertain what to say in the strangeness of it all. But this was too much. “I’m not going in there,” I said. “You’re nuts. Let’s talk about this.” But when I met her eyes and saw the steely determination in them, something in me faltered. Maybe it was the collar, or the leash around my neck; or maybe it was just the hopelessness and absurdity of the whole situation… but I let out a whimper. She pushed me into the crate, closed it, and locked it. Then she turned around and left the room. Alex did the same, turning out the light behind her. I was alone, naked, in the dark, in a cage. Again, I whimpered. Then I curled up on the hard floor and tried to get some sleep.
*
At some point in the night, Alex came upstairs and brought me a thin blanket. “Clara wanted you to have this,” she said.
“I understand why Clara’s angry,” I said, “but I still don’t understand what’s in this for you.” Perhaps if I knew, I could convince her to let me out.
“You know,” she began in a conversational tone, “you really don’t know your wife at all. You know that she’s smart, but you only really value her intelligence for how it boosts your own standing. You don’t engage with it in any way yourself. You know that she’s beautiful, but you hardly touch her. And,” she said, glancing at the bed, “you have no idea how to please her.”
“But what do you care?”
“Because,” said Alex, “I want to fuck your wife.”
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/udwbc9/my_wife_and_girlfriend_found_out_about_each_other
Will post part 3 tomorrow <3
I’m invested in this story! Would love to know what happens next :)
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