12 comments/ 124571 views/ 7 favorites Cuckold: Two For One By: BaronS Nestled within the gentle embrace of her private thermae, appointed tastefully as it was with ornate gold fixtures and the soft surround of walls laden in Venetian kilned tiles, Michelle was as far and removed from common reality as she could possibly get. Her time and place was an effortless occupation, involving nothing more energetic than to lounge with shameless abandon in a tub of meticulously perfumed water while contributing absolutely nothing in return. As the woes of the world at large continued on in mute witness to such indulgence, Michelle successfully mortgaged her idleness to her best advantage. Warm, wet and somewhat somnambulant, she was unencumbered, unaware, and indubitably unperturbed, particularly of anything other than herself. And who could have blamed her for succumbing to such an alluring offer of solitude, especially one which included an unearned respite from the ugliness of a world far removed? Michelle's dalliance was a daily seduction of spirit and flesh. While that in itself was therapeutic, it was also an appalling extravagance that she participated in for no other reason than to satisfy her own exclusive needs. Such a paradise as she envisaged, however ignoble or undeserved, still demanded constant attention from her. So with renewed attention to the details of her ongoing agenda, Michelle prepared to withdraw from the silky water and begin to focus more on the events of the coming evening. Any trepidation to remove her body from the nook of the tub was resolutely put behind her. Michelle stepped ever so lightly from the tepid pool and daintily reached out for the towel. She took time and due care to pat herself dry, delivering the same loving attention equally to all of the flat and round parts of her lean body. Then, with undeniable grace but in a style of sensual haughtiness, she abandoned the damp towel to the floor as she would discard a piece of unwanted tissue. It was mid afternoon now, bright and slightly breezy, with just a hint of noise from the outside which was allowed to drift in through the slight opening of the large opaque glass window. The rays of the sun were becoming more oblique and the lightly medicated saffron tea she had enjoyed earlier was just beginning to relinquish its sophomoric effect on her libido. Life was good and Michelle luxuriated in all of its temptations. // As a modern young woman existing in the 21st century, Michelle had everything in life that a woman would possibly want. She was healthy, well educated and socially balanced. Her husband of six years was an executive at an international investment brokerage firm and both of them loved and respected each other impeccably. Their home was situated on a prime tract of land in a very exclusive part of the city. They had bought it more than a year ago, paying off the principle in cash dollars, receiving the title and deed without the restrictions of a mortgage. Yet there purchase amounted to more than just a plot of land and a residence, it was actually an event; more of a destination for the curious, really. Uniquely constructed with attention to detail, their home was a large and rambling replica of classic Romanesque architecture. Walls of alabaster supported a flat but slightly inclined roof of tangerine sun baked tiles. The body and the rhythm of the building complimented the curved and smooth lines of its copied antiquity. It presented an odd shape amongst the more traditional mansions that existed in the same neighborhood and the notoriety driven by its odd looks was hard to suppress. All around the house, the gentle roll of manicured lawns were pocked with kidney shaped areas containing crushed white rock. There were numerous varieties of sculpted cedars as well, all hovering low to the ground. Each of these components tended to showcase the natural environment. The landscape rendered more of a feeling of a private golf course, than that of a residential setting in suburbia. Even though Michelle and her husband cherished their privacy, they were courteous enough to allow three national home magazine writers to invade their retreat in order to take pictures and further, to write feature stories in their respective magazines. Sharing all of their financial resources, they easily afforded three cars; a Porsche; a Mercedes, and the most recent acquisition, a Mitsubishi built SUV. There were two snow mobiles and an all terrain vehicle, all Honda's. The Harley Davidson motorcycle was their purchase statement regarding America and the United States. It wasn't a toy for their more adventurous moments; it was their Stars & Stripes on wheels. On the social scene, they hosted elaborate and well choreographed parties at their Alpine-like retreat. This was an authentic chalet that was perched on an outcrop of land at a private lake located some 30 minutes from the city. When they purchased it they decided to never close their cottage, but rather to enjoy all of the seasons to which it had originally been built to accommodate. In addition to all of this and just to make life less arduous, they employed a full time maid, and two grounds keepers. While her husband earned a top salary, Michelle came to the marriage with a considerable dowry. She was the only daughter of a family of old wealth who had guarded their well-earned money for the sole purposed of forfeiting a large portion of it to their daughter, when she married. Despite the fact that Michelle was without any sisters or brothers, she had avoided the pitfall of being weak of character simply because of the family's largesse. To the credit of loving but wise parents, Michelle grew into her adolescence with a resolve to never settle for 'less' when 'more' was available. In adulthood, Michelle always insisted on acquiring only the very best of anything she wanted. Second best was, well, second! The softened water in her bath was just one example of the way in which Michelle ran her life. Her creamy bath was the result of the blending of a bevy of special oils and elixirs. These were discriminative preparations, exclusive to only a few. Certainly, none of the ingredients that Michelle anointed her body with could ever be acquired by the regular mob of pedestrians who trampled the malls on weekends. Michelle's were special and unequalled aqueous concoctions, certainly without brand names or familiar logos. Her's were individually imported, quietly, under the auspices of such landmark importers as Lloyds, Harrods, and Marks and Spencer. Like pornography, her cross-borders booty was delivered in plain brown boxes of untraceable origins, all by the efficacy of global air cargo couriers. Indeed, her vanity hosted a diverse selection of seductive perfumes, fine grain powders, and exotic salves. By far, her collection was a suitable cache of sultry ingredients fit for the sequestered Queens of powerful Sheiks, all of which in Michelle's case were for her singular, selective, and very private use. The cost of such pampering was of no consequence to Michelle because no expense was too much. Only the results were what mattered to her. One at a time or copiously blended together en masse, her customized creativity with the more sovereign of emollients at her disposal, rendered a suitable alchemy within which she could ease her youthful and creamy body. // Now that she was dry from the time in her bath, there were other personal preparations to achieve. After retrieving her pamper glove and dusting it with lightly with poudre de camellia, she stood quietly in the middle of her private spa and slipped the glove over her right hand. First, she patted her face then her breasts, followed shortly by stroking her gloved hand twice across her taut tummy. With due care she gently rubbed her mittened hand between her legs, pausing momentarily, before repeating the movement. After several swipes at the entire crotch area, she cast the pamper glove to the floor and drifted in a regal motion of smooth and effortless gait, towards her vanity. Michelle choreographed everything that she did. When she moved, stood up, or sat down, the impression she strived so hard to leave with others, was that she was confidently in control. Not just of herself, but of the occasion as well. The reality of her impression upon others however, was somewhat different than she intended. Contemptuous histrionics aside, most considered. Michelle's behavior to be easily compared to the antics of a virtuous ballerina on an opening night when the jitters of performing newly written operas can make or ruin a career. Understandably, comparing Michelle, a 26 year old 'girl-next-door' American beauty, to a schooled translator of operetta musical intent isn't meant as a frivolous after thought. Frankly, the points of comparison don't start and end with just the mechanics of their bodies. There is much more to compare between Michelle and a ballerina than just that! By any standard, Michelle was a gorgeous creature, both of habit and youth. When weighing her accrued age to that of human durability; she would be considered to be hardly out of the packaging of her birth. While it was true that every bit of Michelle's 120 pounds was petite and compact, it was how she used this arsenal of her physical bits and pieces that was important. After all, she was no gamine, to be sure! At first glance it was obvious that the muscle tone and structured proportions of her body had been honed lean through disciplined exercise. While she was slightly larger than a wisp, she broadcast a decidedly healthier look than those gaunt Vogue models that painfully exist on the fashion runways of the global centres of haute couture Admittedly, Michelle was not that tall, standing perhaps 5 feet 5 inches without shoes. At the same time, what she lacked in height she more than made up for in substance. The overall presentation she offered to anyone who took the time and interest to notice, was of a taut and supple bundle of pleasurable possibility. Yet Michelle wasn't at all dedicated or disciplined like a ballerina; there was the departure. Michelle was a mere child who, because of the passage of time, had accumulated a few years under her belt. She feigned adult responsibility, choosing instead to ignore convention with a capricious intent. If her friends thought that making out on a dry white sandy beach shouldered up to a Caribbean lagoon was sensual, Michelle would tell them she'd rather run buck naked through a field of daisies in Maine with a couple of men in hot pursuit. Michelle's bath routines therefore, were only an extension of this adolescent behavior and as such she followed various protocols in order to achieve the planned end results. Sitting in the tub was just one component of her holistic purpose. Apart from the application of creams and such, the other custom to which she had become addicted to après bath, was to rummage about her body while standing naked in the centre of the room. While this effort could have been predicated on eroticism on Michelle's part, her true goal was nothing more than achieving her own piece of mind. As sensual as her efforts might appear, her objectivity had absolutely nothing to do with sexual stimulation. Nor did she have any motivation to detect cancers or tumors or any of those other malignancies that can impinge the longevity of the human race. Michelle's touchy-feely was nothing more than an anatomical self-affirmation that her body was as 'near to perfection' as any human body could expect to be. So when she was ready, she would start at the top of her pink tantalizing frame and work her way south in a slow and appreciative way. She had always been pleased with her hair. It was thick and naturally blonde and she'd shake her head just to watch the tresses tumble and fold. Each wave of shiny strands would undulate back into place, all in unison like a field of ripe wheat being pushed to and fro by a gentle prairie zephyr. She touched her face and ran her delicate fingers over the smooth skin, then licked her lips to make them shine and pout. There wasn't a wrinkle, not even a laugh line. Nor was there a crease or a fold anywhere that would support or deny the truth of her nascent age. There were no blemishes to be seen either, or any of those other irregular contours, appendages, or skin tags that fuel the ambiguous promises of the cosmetic industry as they allude to the protective vanity of western women. To most of Michelle's female friends, they'd have quickly bet the cost of their next spa treatment that her breasts were her most cherished attribute. But they'd all lose that bet. Michelle's breasts were her second most beautiful feminine feature. For Michelle, it was her ass that came first. And to any man who had ever viewed it, there was no doubt in their minds either that her derrière was absolutely outstanding. Stunning, to be more precise! Michelle's exquisite hind quarter was formed by the most perfect petite pair of solid half moons of tawny flesh that ever existed. Covered as they were with a velvety cuticle of firm skin they were as impressive as they were enticing. Each cheek was sculpted and formed as if cleaved from a single slab of recently quarried marble from a pit in Spain. The left one complimented the right and like twins of Venus, they quivered as one at the touch. But when Michelle moved her body forward, an enchanting symphony of lascivious activity began and solicitous as this was, no man could ever avert his eyes or deny his lust for them or her, even if he tried. Her golden rump as she sometimes called it; her hind quarter; her voluptuous tail; it didn't matter the nomenclature. For Michelle, it was her mark; her statement of territorial omnipresence; and her manifesto and warning to all other females, that she was Queen. For all men and any of them who made the mistake to 'wonder' at her rear too long, to set his eyes upon that sanctimonious area of the female anatomy where virtue ends and prurience begins, Michelle would offer up to them her tight cheeks as a showcase of the credentials of her authority. And as if the power of telepathy actaully existed, she would deliver her message to the violator without so much as having to utter a single word. The meaning of her invective was unmistakable; 'My ass will dictate all of the future terms of your total surrender to me.' Then, she would turn away in a coquettish huff, leaving the inept male isolated and having to suffer angst and denial without the slightest chance of peer support. Suitably awash in his own perdicament, Michelle ensured that the voyeur was rendered powerless to even ward off the drizzle-down goo of humiliation to which she had sentenced him. She twisted around ever so slightly and allowed herself a brief but appreciative glance at her two perfectly formed buttocks. She plied the naked globes with all 10 fingers, wanting to confirm the fact that hers, beyond any doubt, was the definitive flawless 'ass' of all woman kind. She was so impressed with her luscious appendage that she'd have bent over and kissed it herself if only she could. As the manipulation of her body continued, her eyes fell further down her frame, coming to rest on her abdomen. The skin here was tight and stretched, not unlike a swatch of raw leather set out upon tenterhooks during the final phase of curing. She poked and prodded her index finger into her navel. She giggled, and then licked the same finger, pushing it repeatedly in and out of her mouth between pursed lips. Below that again, lean and muscular thighs extended out from hips that were just the right size for her delicate frame. The thighs protected Michelle's core femininity like a pair of suits would deflect harm from a rock star being escorted from the building after a concert. It would be difficult to get anything by these two, unless of course, Michelle desired something or someone to get by them. Michelle's vagina was naked, the result of an excruciating Brazilian bikini cut which had taken Manuel, her personal salon attendant, one hour and twenty minutes to exact. Oh, she knew he was toying with her but she accepted his lassitude to complete the job by enjoying her own fantasy, slyly watching the ever growing load in his tight pants as he shifted and changed position while working his magic upon her crotch. Yet the area wasn't totally clean even after Manuel's attention to every detail. There was the briefest of outcropping of hair, just a smattering of close cropped strands which Michelle had color treated to a dark brown hue. These succinct follicles had been allowed to cling to the pudendum to appear as if they were an error of shaving and not, as she had really intended, more to act as a directional arrow to point the way to the goods available, just below! It was a directional offering in Braille for who were erotically challenged. Michelle regarded herself as a beautifully formed female who could easily beguile any man, regardless of his persuasion; perhaps even a woman, who knew? And while she would never admit openly that the term narcissistic applied to her in any which way, she had an unconscious and natural affinity for just that sort of behaviour. Now, with her basic preparations concluded, she was ready to continue on with the rest of her day and to make all of those niggling decisions that were connected to her planned evening. But, there was one final act yet to be accomplished. Stretching out her right arm Michelle snuggled her gold watch around her petite wrist and locked it into place. She thought of this piece of jewelry as a single arm cuff. She loved the feel of its restriction on her body! The utter thought of it excited her more than anything else. It was a relatively new experience for her and it felt slightly strange and foreign. Yet, she was unable to deny its intoxicating influence. She had admitted once to a friend that the feeling she experienced with the watch tightly bound around her wrist was like standing in front of a door that she was hesitant to open, lest she became powerless to close it. // Danny was Michelle's husband. He was waiting for her by the back door. When Michelle descended from her upper domain to meet him, it was exactly 5 p.m. Danny was very punctual. They had been married for six years now and he still knew exactly how to please his wife. Michelle emerged from the darkened hallway into the bright sunny afternoon light as it streamed in through the kitchen windows. She was wearing a short pleated skirt and a flimsy blouse of a fine mesh weave. Michelle stood out amongst her surroundings like a single pearl necklace would stand out on the sleek black silk of a Versace cocktail gown. Danny's gaze never left her face. "Hi hon," she offered warmly. "Did you have a busy day?" she asked with sincere interest. The sun was at her back and she stood in profile between the main window and her husband. He nodded his head up and down. "Good," she murmured, "I am always happy when you have a good day." Danny smiled at her comment. "Did you bring any work home with you?" she asked like a dutiful wife who was concerned for her husband's well being. Danny shook his head back and forth, left to right. "Good," she said with a slight giggle, "I'll be going out tonight and there'll be lots of work for you to do here." // It had been two years since Michelle had discovered her husband's otherwise unknown sexual desires and an equal amount of time since their new relationship had evolved to where it was now. Danny and Michelle lived a lifestyle that only few other married couples could possibly understand and perhaps even less could attempt to duplicate. Danny was a cuckolded husband and Michelle was his very attractive and seductive wife. Cuckold: Two For One Once Danny's little erotic fantasy was let 'loose' amongst the sanctity of their relationship as man and wife, Michelle had seized upon the advantage and quite forthrightly insinuated that she would be dating other men; a lot of other men. Danny wasn't surprised or even angry about his wife's stark declaration; in fact, he became quite excited by it. The prospects of being excluded totally from his wife's association with other men, seemed, well, quite okay. Yet, at the root of this mutual agreement lurked an omen veiled in the shared assumption by both parties that their individual interpretation of what constituted 'dating' was, in fact, the same. In Michelle's case, her intentions with other men were way beyond benign meetings for coffee or even more intimate encounters such as dinner and a movie. None of that; Michelle's liaisons were intended to be very carnal affairs. In her defense, she never hid these thoughts from Danny and for the most part, Danny wasn't that naïve or innocent to think that as a cuckolded husband that his wife wouldn't be interested in satisfying her need for physical sex. From the very first man she dated she had lived up to her promise of pleasure, both for him and herself. That first night, she had made Danny stay home and clean and wax the kitchen floor. On her date, Michelle's physical performance had been energetic and resoundingly full of gusto. She had been nervous at first but soon got into the rhythm of her affair. Later that night, after inspecting the sheen of the floor, she shared the intimate details of her encounter with her husband. Danny's response was not what she expected. His silence and bewilderment was quite evident. For Danny, this was much more of a sacrifice than he had bargained for. Yes, he loved being the cuckolded husband, but his wife's actions had went far beyond his imagination. However, it was much too late to reverse the situation now. As much for retaliation as anything else, regarding her husbands desultory reaction to what she thought had been a 'break-through' evening, she refused him entry into their bed that night and demanded that he sleep on the floor at the foot of it! When he complied without a whimper or a fight, Michelle knew she could easily control him to her own ends. Following the events of this evening, it was safe to say that Michelle had become a changed woman. She was hooked from the get-go with that first encounter. Screwing a strange man had ignited a passion in her like nothing else in life, ever had. The overwhelming desire to fuck as many strange men as she could, made her wet at the thought! Her plan was not unduly complex and included having her husband transformed into a totally kept man; responsible only to attend to the home and his career. He was half there now. Michelle knew that this situation would provide for her not only the finances to do as she pleased but the borderless range to do which ever it was that she pleased. Once in place, she would perpetuate her planned debauchery with every man she could hook. The reward she envisaged for Danny would be a thorough prohibition from having any sexual dealings with her, at all. What was the essence of cuckoldry if not that? She would levy a stern dividend from him even if all that he was allowed was a masturbation event! Michelle giggled at the thought of her husband being beholding to her for permission to play with himself. Good grief, she thought, how utterly decadent! Danny of course, wasn't exactly on the same wave length as his wife. Apart from how they had both planned for these social trysts in the first place, all of that was now apparently moot and everything was being replaced by out and out sex! His fear was where all of this activity could take them as a married couple? He approached Michelle one evening and asked her if they could have a serious talk about what they were doing and just where they were headed? Michelle had suspected this action from her husband and had prepared in advance. She knew she could control Danny and therefore agreed to the conversation. They sat facing one another across the coffee table like a man and woman sitting in a marriage counselor's office, all quite and polite, waiting for the counselor to guide them. Danny began. For the first couple of minutes she listened to her husband's cautions and caveats with benign interest. Then, as he was about to launch another argument, Michelle abruptly stood up. She looked him directly in the eyes and ordered him to his knees in front of her! At first, he balked. She ordered him once again and pointed to a specific spot on the carpet by her feet. For the occassion, Michelle was wearing his favourite outfit. It was a pleated red and blue Tartan skirt which she had draped high on her hips, allowing the fluted hem to brush her legs at mid-thigh. Combined with a white dress shirt of crisp ironed cotton and a maroon coloured scarf loosely gaffed about her neck, the ensemble was completed by a pair of shiny black, low heel loafers with ankle strap. There was no indication on Danny's part that he was going to acknowledge her direct order. They remained staring at each other for what must have seemed like an eternity. She, with a look of stern conviction and he, with a countenance of mild astonishment. But an eternity can be brief when your heart is telling you one thing and your mind quite another. Michelle's husband blinked, then he slinked off the couch and crawled obediently to the spot on the floor to which she had directed him. He rearranged himself there and knelt to attention in front of her. She smiled down at him with a mock look imbued of sheer victory. Slowly and with purpose, Michelle turned about and offered her butt cheeks to Danny's face. Looking over her right shoulder she whispered ever so gently, "Kiss them Danny. Both of them. Kiss my ass now and ask for my forgiveness." "Yes Michelle," he meekly replied, then reached out with shaking hands and gently lifted the skirt up so that he could obey her order. As he drew closer upon his wife's golden rump, wrapped snuggly as it was in smooth white silk panties, he puckered up to one firm cheek, then the other. When he had retreated and lowered the skirt to hang freely from her hips, Michelle issued forth her warning for him. "In the future, you will do as I tell you. Understand?" "Yes Michelle." From that point onward, Danny was complacent with all of her decisions and intentions. He was submissive by nature and he knew it, making it easy for Michelle to overwhelm and manipulate him. That evening he was rewarded for the lesson he had learned today. Michelle allowed him to masturbate, twice, while she stood over him naked. At the culmination of his second climax, he lay exhausted beneath her towering presence. "Danny, look at me and this. This will be your last view of my vagina. From now on, your right hand will be your only woman. You will be relegated to making love to that woman, not me. I want to be fucked by other men, not you. Aggressive men who will allow me to give them pleasure and who will in turn, force me to submit to their filthy desires. You are a cuckold husband and I know that you like that. Now, you will live the life." "Yes, Michelle." Danny whimpered in response. // As random one-nighters followed one after another, Michelle become addicted to the power she wielded over her husband. So, she turned the screws even tighter around his manhood. In addition to the chores she assigned him at night when she went out on dates, his entire pay was to be deposited into a private account that Michelle had set up in her name. In return, and only 'if' Danny's performance at completing home chores and the quality of his demonstrated obedience were impressive enough, would she agree to pay him a stipend for his efforts? Financially she would have him on a very short leash. The aspect of being married and secure, while at the same time being partnered with a man who loved her and having the unfettered freedom of mind and soul to wander and carouse as she desired, was an intoxicating turn in Michelle's life. If widely known, Michelle would have been the envy of every woman on the planet. She could date other men with absolute impunity from her husband's intervention or ire and in turn have him love and respect her even more! Truly, a women's utopia! However, even the assumed perfection of a utopia can go all wrong. // Danny remained on the spot on the floor that Michelle had designated as his kneeling place when he came home from work each night. He was to kneel in this spot and stay in that position until she appeared to greet him. Then he would stay in his subservient situation until he was given permission to move or until Michelle issued his orders for the evening. Michelle had long ago trained Danny how to kneel respectfully in front of her, ensuring that his upper torso posture was straight and perpendicular to the floor while keeping his hands meekly behind his back. "Your little pink skirt is laid out for you, as well as your panties, nylons, and high heels. You may go now; strip down, have your shower in the basement and get dressed. You have 15 minutes," Michelle spoke down to him as-a-matter-of-factly, then spun about and left what remained of the tattered remnants of her husband's masculinity on the kitchen floor behind her. Danny bowed his head as she left while his penis fought a battle of its own in his underwear. Excitedly, he leapt into action and in 12 minutes flat he was back standing in the kitchen between the stove and the sink, all dressed up like a little whore soliciting men for sexual services in return for cash or trinkets of equal value. He stood there for the better part of an hour waiting patiently for Michelle to re-appear and issue him his orders. During his penance, Michelle was taking her good old time. She liked to 'hurry' him up then make him wait for her. The objective was to keep him anxious and off guard. She wanted him docile and attentive, but sexually excited. She knew that her treatment over him was what drove his sexual motors. With learned self discipline, Danny kept his obedience to his wife by keeping his head bowed toward the floor and his hands respectively behind him. It was his way to show her that he recognized his 'place' in their lives. With his legs encased in fine denier nylons and his feet snugged into size 9 stilettos, Danny was a perfect picture of a thoroughly cuckolded husband, maintaining his balance and decorum as expertly as any Royal Guard would do, posted to a patrol area outside of Buckingham Palace. Danny, as it seemed, loved the lifestyle as much as Michelle. // Later, as day eased into night, Danny watched from the bathroom window as his wife stepped lithely into the Mercedes that was parked by the curb waiting for her. The cleaning of the bathroom was only the first of 25 chores Danny was responsible for this evening. One thing was that the maid was never on duty at night, allowing Danny the ability to romp about the house with impunity. Michelle, therefore, kept him busy throughout her planned absences. She wanted him fully encumbered and in a state of anxiety while she enjoyed her freedom to revel with other men. The number of chores she gave him was specifically designed to prohibit Danny from watching television or participating in any other pastime that he enjoyed. She was a bitch's bitch but Danny excitedly encouraged her. He was unable to fight her, on any level, so he lovingly submitted to her prolific control over him. Danny only looked for the pleasure that his humiliation would bring him as a cuckolded husband. He was sexually driven by doing womanly chores at home all the while his wife fucked other men at her convenience. Danny's enthusiasm for such degradation was exactly the way Michelle wanted him! // At about 10 minutes before 9 o'clock, Danny dropped his dishrag into the bucket of acrid water and closed the oven door. He hadn't yet finished his efforts to make the ceramic cooking interior sparkle, as it has been specifically stated on his list of 'chores', but he'd have plenty of time later. Right now, his main priority was to move upstairs to the bedroom, get stripped down naked, and kneel by the phone in the bedroom. Quickly, but with due respect for the dainty and fragile nature of his skirt, bras, blouse, panties, and nylons, he removed the feminine finery and laid them out one by one, on top of the bed. Next, from the night table on Michelle's side, he carefully removed his chastity device and immediately threaded the four string-like electrodes through the runnels provided. The device, shaped somewhat like a hotdog bun when opened, was a cruel piece of feminine torture specifically designed to enforce the obedience of a man regardless of the task or command. This particular model represented one of the best sexual control gadgets of an electronic nature that had ever been placed on the market. Danny recalled the day it had been purchased. He had accompanied Michelle to a downtown sex shop, all the while being openly cuckolded at the tethered end of a very visible collar and leash. As he stood in silent submission, he watched as device after device was showcased by the sales woman. Then, from this rather comprehensive assortment of apparati, one model stood out above and beyond all others. It was the Orangutan 7.0 model. As the sales lady pointed out, this was the device preferred by all of her dominant female customers. It was this popular tether that was capable of being operated 'remotely'. That meant, as the sales lady wistfully advised, that the Mistress need not be in the room when the device was activated! It was a 'done deal' and Michelle instantly made the purchase. Danny pinched and massaged his nipples with both hands and encouraged a raging hard-on. He then opened the male chastity device and laid his long hard penis into its crevice. Next, with deft acuity bred of familiarity, he threaded the electrodes, cinching them tight, locking his rigid penis within the tough plastic hide of the chastity device. The four electrodes joined as one as they entered the 24 volt transformer which was hooked up to a cadmium battery which in turn was a part of a red colored belt that he had wrapped around his waist. He was almost finished with the chore of 'hooking' himself up. He was hopeful that he had time before the phone rang to finish the job. The one remaining task was to attach the two tongs that hung down from the underside of his encased penis, one to each testicle. The tongs were about three inches long and formed two spoon-like shapes at the extremity. If applied correctly, the spoon like ends of the tongs would fit perfectly around each testicle. This was easier said than done, as Danny knew; because if this placement wasn't done with exact precision, the pain would be excruciating. The phone rang at the very moment he had secured his second testicle. Danny picked it up on the second ring. "Hi Danny," Michelle cooed, "Are you all hooked up?" "Yes dear." "I really scored tonight, Danny. I have two raging 'bulls' that are 'at' me. Isn't that exciting?" "Yes dear." he meekly replied, humiliated and excited at the thought of Michelle's statement. "I hope that you will please them both." he offered diminutively. "I've never had two men at the same time Danny and I must admit, I'm rather excited about it. I'm going to perform some magic on these two tonight. I'm sure I'll be a mess by the time I get home" "I want you to thoroughly enjoy yourself dear," he responded somewhat hesitant and out of breath, "Take as long as you need." "Danny, this will mean I'll be home much later than planned." "That's fine dear. I'll be waiting at the door as usual." "I know you will, Danny. That's the way I've trained you. At the same time I fear you'll run out of chores leaving you with much more time on your hands than I allow you." "Yes, I forgot about that sweetheart. Will you give me additional chores to do?" "Yes, but I want you to choose them." Danny had been down this road before and he knew if the additional tasks were not strenuous enough or complex enough, Michelle would insinuate her own in on top of his. "Thank you dear, that is very kind of you. Perhaps I can clean out all the cupboards in the kitchen, wash them down, and re-arrange everything back on the shelves in a neat and tidy way?" "That's very thoughtful Danny. Yes, that would be fine." "And if you'd allow me, I'd also like to scrub the floor in the foyer and clean the grout with a tooth brush and some chlorine?" "Yes Danny. You are a very good boy and you certainly know how to please me. Yes, that would be fine, too." In the background Danny could hear the men encouraging Michelle to get off the phone and get back to their party. He listened as his wife flirted with them and teased their male egos. This excited Danny to no end. "Danny, my boys want me. I have to go. One of them wants his cock sucked," she said, then giggled sensually to get her husband's attention. Danny's heart sank then he listened as his wife told the man to put his 'thing' back in his pants, "As you know, I will be calling back and I'll want the call answered on first ring. Is that understood?" "Yes dear; thoroughly understood." Again Danny could hear one of Michelle's men in the background, his muted mumblings sounding like he was chewing on her ear or kissing her neck. And once more he listened as Michelle dealt with the man as she would a teenage boy in 'heat' in the back seat of a car at the drive-in. "Before I let you go, Danny, I'm going to press the number '3' on my cell phone. I want to check that you have your little chastity belt secured around your cock and balls." And before he could answer, Michelle pressed and held the # 3 and listened as Danny screamed out a long and urgent cry of pain. She held the number on her cell phone for a full count of five seconds. Danny shook at the power of the electrical jolt as it delivered a painful package of voltage directly to his testicles. When she let up on the # 3, Danny was breathless and shaking. "Danny, you're a good boy; a very good boy. And from your response, I know that you're hooked up properly. Well done, I must say. Now run along before you run out of time and get back to your duties and chores, while I attend to these two horny men." "Th, th, thank you dear," he sputtered out, still racked with the searing pain from the electric shock to his genitals. "And Danny, remember throughout your evening, that each time I receive one of their huge cocks in either my vagina or mouth, I'm going to push the # 3 button on my phone. And if I receive both of their loads at the same time, then you'll be in a much longer period of pain for sure." she uttered forth with her frivolous intention, ending the conversation with a giggle and a tease as was her method. "Why, I may even let the men push the # 3 button, each time they finish with me. Wouldn't you like that, Danny? First, they can pleasure themselves with your wife then they can humiliate you via a cell phone." "Oh, good grief, yes dear. Thank you dear." He spit out excitedly, and then added, "Please, will you allow me to have some cream pie when you come home?" "Oh yes, two cream pies in fact, but only if all of your chores are completed to perfection. I love it when you kneel down in front of me after my date and eat another man's hot passion juice right from my cunt. That'll be your evening snack." With that said, Michelle terminated the call and Danny, still reeling from the pain exerted by his wife's long distance test of his devotion, not to mention the working parts of the chastity device, returned to his mundane task of cleaning the kitchen stove. Cuckold: Two For One // AUTHOR'S NOTE: If you have taken the time to read this story in its entirety, I thank you very much for your time and interest. And if you have read it all, or even if you've simply read portions of it, I would ask you to consider placing your 'vote' as to the level of quality you believe my story deserves. This is a story that is not yet finished. Feedback from Literotica readers of course, will determine if I bring readers even deeper into the lives of Michelle and Danny with a future publication of Cuckold, Two for One – The Green Door. I look forward to hearing from all of you. Sincerely, Sylvia Baron