“Wh- but, I just heard her grandfather died! I was offering condolence.”
“Oh, um, my bad… But! my ex’s grandmother died (at some point) and he needs some cheering up. There’s really only one good way to cheer a guy up, y’know.”
“I guess…”
“Good! So you won’t mind if I follow through on giving him that blowjob I promised. It would be wrong to jerk him around in his time of grief, just because of a misunderstanding on my part.”
“I-”
“K, bye!”
“I told them to fuck off.”
“Oh…right. Good. What pervs. Yeah, that would be…wrong.”
“Sorry, I don’t even know why I told you. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable around them. But you should know what they’re like. Really, I understand if you don’t ever want to be around them. I’m not sure I even want to see them after that.”
“Don’t do that! I mean…thanks but, no, I’m, um, comfortable. In fact, I should get back on the horse! Horses. Let me go to your bar night. I’ll be your DD (that’s what guys like, right?). You’ll get to drink to your heart’s content and I’ll be sober enough to fend them off and gain their respect in the process.”
“I don’t know…”
“Fine, if you’re afraid you’ll pass out like you tend to, let’s just have them over. Then you can pass out safely AND I’ll have the gun if anyone really tries to get frisky.”
“I guess…”
“Great! Thanks, baby! I am going to make your favorite cocktail. The knockout!”
No? Why am I naked? Oh, that. Yes, I know I said I was going to wear that sexy new bikini you got me. And I totally did! It fit, great, babe! And it looked amazing, right Simon?
See, your little brother agrees. Aww, I’m sorry you didn’t get to see me in it. Another time. When you aren’t being so offensively jealous and controlling, not to mention sexist. Yes, I told your kid brother all about how you didn’t want me sharing pictures of my own body. And how unfair I thought it was that he got to be topless all the time, even in public, while I have to cover my nipples and areolas with these little triangles of fabric as some sort of ritual sacrifice to the gods of modesty. Well Simon totally backed me up. But in fact he thought it was also unfair that I got to see his pecs all the time while I hide mine from him. And honey, you know how much I admire your little brother’s physique, so I couldn’t really say he was wrong, mmmm.
Hmm? Oh yes, sorry, I was just appreciating his pecs again. So I took my top off to make us even. Baby, don’t be like that. The micro swim top barely covered anything anyway. See, Simon agrees.
Well but in the interest of fairness I had to point out that even his speedo briefs covered way more than my thong bottoms. So I gave him a wedgie! And slapped his ass. I admit that was a bit too far. I’m sorry. So I let him spank me in repentance. But he spanked me really hard! Several times. You so did, Simon! I screamed so loud I bet even my husband heard. See?
Well, I was angry and we horsed around a bit. In a fit of rage, I pulled down his swimsuit. I wasn’t thinking! And then I got really distracted. But you can’t really blame him for being so hard after all the commotion. It’s a natural response. And you can’t really blame me for being so transfixed. I couldn’t believe it was so big! So I just nodded when he said it was only fair that I let him pull down my bottoms. It’s true enough. And so here we are, naked. But I am his big sister (in law) and he is my kid brother (in law) so it’s not a big deal. Brothers and sisters shouldn’t have to have shame or secrets between them. Just calm down. I told you jealousy is not a good look. And it’s a bad example to set for your brother.
The straw in my pussy? Oh, um, I mean, in fairness…yes, I have an explanation! It’s just, I saw his cock and he hasn’t seen yours since you were kids. He was just curious how he was growing. And they say you need to encourage young men, so I was just…giving a visual example…of what it looks like when you and I fuck…
“Did it have to be that…revealing?! It’s just your belly button.”
Well you can’t really appreciate it without context. If I sent a close-up, it could be anyone’s navel piercing. I’m sure he’s seen one before. He wanted to see my piercing, not just a piercing.
“I guess, but, I mean, your boobs were even hanging out!”
Don’t be so jealous. It’s not a good look. Besides, if I show cleavage people see way more of the tops of my boobs. Your younger brother has witnessed that tons of times. The bottoms of my breasts are not more sacred just because they see less sunlight.
“I’m not sure I agr-”
Plus it’s a sexist double standard! I see your little brother flaunting his whole, muscular chest any time he comes by to use the pool. It’s not any less hot, trust me. But society says one is okay and one is not!
“I’m sorry! I don’t mean to be sexist. I just- like, why pull down your pants?”
To show the line of my hip, duh! I want a picture of how this piercing looks on my body. God, you are so dense. Oh! He wants to come over for dinner and to use the pool. I’m going to change into that new bikini you got me. Yes, the sexy one that’s way more revealing than that photo I sent. Yes, I know you meant it to be worn in private. But I need to break you of this jealousy streak. If you’re like this with your young brother imagine what you’ll be like in front of age-appropriate men? Now go and start making us dinner, okay?
“Heh heh. Tell me to come inside your wife, ‘hubby.’”
“What?! …no. That’s not what we talked about. Even with a condom, the agreement was you’d pull out. This was just supposed to be a fun little one-night experiment with strict limits.”
“I need to feel him finish, honey. Please.”
“You heard the woman.”
“She’s just fuck crazy. She’d agree to anything right now. It’s too dangerous. She’s not even on birth control since we’re trying to have a baby.
”
“Really? Hmm…you know how I told you this condom was a little small? It hurts. Can I take it off and really come inside?”
At that moment she moaned wildly, throwing her head back on the pillow and gripping the sheets. After she came down from the orgasm she put her mouth by his ear and and whispered something you couldn’t hear, “Oh my god, yes! I need that. Make him take it off?”
Suddenly he was off your wife and approaching you with his big erect dick. It turned you on more than you wanted to admit.
“Okay, fun’s over. I’m going to find another slut to make me cum since you two can’t make up your minds. But first, take this tiny condom off me, you little cuck bitch.”
You were confused and paralyzed. Why was this so hot? Seeing your hesitation, he grabbed your hand and placed it on his dick, wrapping your fingers around the girthy base. You involuntarily squeezed it a little.You’d never touch another dick or even thought about it. It felt nice. You savored the sensation of slowly pulling the condom off.
“Next time you invite a stud over to take your wife and your manhood (and I’m sure there will be a next time), make sure to stock some magnums, okay?”
You just nodded, in a daze. “Yes, sir.” Now who was fuck crazy? He walked over to your wife and leaned down and kissed her. That wasn’t part of the deal, either, but you found it thrilled you.
“Maybe if you provide some adequate condoms next time, this won’t happen to you.”
Hmm? Suddenly he had pulled your wife’s ass to the edge of the bed. What? You were too dazed to process. Then he was inside her again. That roused you.
“Hey! Get off her!”
“Come in me, you stud. Come, come, come!”
“Baby, stop. This isn’t safe. You could get pregnant.”
“Yessss!”
“I’m gonna impregnate your wife, ‘hubby.’ Tell me you want me to take fatherhood away from you, too.”
“N-no!”
“Get over here.”
You walked up to him, scared and confused.
He slapped you, hard. You staggered back. “Tell me to come in your wife.”
You looked down. “no…” you whispered.
“What was that?” He raised your chin and slapped you again. “Tell me to impregnate your wife.”
You teared up a little, feeling so overwhelmed in so many ways. You stuttered, “I c-can’t.” He slapped you yet again, even harder.
“Tell me to take ownership of your wife’s pussy.”
“Fuck! Yes!” Your wife seemed to rock with another orgasm. “Give me to him, baby. Tell him to give me a baby!”
By now tears were falling. “T-take…” *slap!* “…cum in my wife’s pussy! P-please!”
You’d encouraged your fiancé
to invite her high school girlfriend to stay with you while she found a new
place to live. Bad break-up. It would only take a week or two, you
figured.
“Won’t you be jealous?”
The question had thrown you.
You realized you hadn’t really thought of her as a proper ex. You were normally
jealous of other guys who even looked at your fiancé too hard. Bias, you
guessed. But now that you thought about it, she was always a little starry eyed
when she mentioned Anise, the old flame. And Anise was a bit flirty with your
girl when you ran into her… The more you considered it, the more the idea of
them possibly hooking up gave you a hard-on. Stereotypical, but true. Maybe
you’d even get to watch?
So you assured your wife-to-be
that you weren’t concerned and that she should not worry either.
“She’s just a friend that
needs a place and some kindness. Be there for her.”
“…okay. If you say so.”
The ex was a blonde bomb-shell
of a woman. From day one Anise treated you like a servant and your fiancé like
a…very close friend. The third night your fiancé came to bed and, after a few
minutes of cuddling, sheepishly asked if she could sleep in her ex’s
bed. “She’s really sad and lonely. No funny business, I swear.” You were
secretly gleeful but assented like an ignorant patriarch. “Of course,
baby. Comfort her.”
You
stayed up for a while, masturbating, imagining what sort of comfort might be
given. You could almost swear you heard moans, but that might just be wishful
thinking.
Next
morning you checked in on them through the open guest room door. The blonde was
wearing the oversize college shirt of yours that your fiancé normally slept in.
Your girl was asleep in her ex’s arms and wearing…maybe nothing? She opened her
eyes, “Mmmm, morning honey. Anise wants you to make us crepes for breakfast in
bed. Um, I mean, I told her how well you make them and she thought you might
treat us?”
You
complied eagerly, feeling exhilarated in a strange way that wasn’t just about
girl on girl titillation. You trusted your fiancé to keep her promise about ‘funny
business,’ in a naïve way, even while her ex somehow coaxed her out of her
pajamas. Imagining Anise breaking down your gullible fiancé’s defenses – and
conspiring to get you to serve them – gave you such a boner.
You
didn’t see your girl in your bed again until two weeks later. And that was when
you came home from work to discover them there, in your bed, entwined. Anise
was eating out your fiancé while she moaned loudly and writhed. Finally, she
noticed you and spoke up:
“She
wants you caged.”
“…what?”
“You
can watch, you little perv. But you have to you have to put your big cock in
this tiny cage, k? Doctor Anise’s orders. She doesn’t want any chance of you
trying to fuck her after you get excited. You understand, right? Or you can
take your boner and go sleep in the guest room, okay babe? I’m her bitch now.”
In a
sort of trance you took the proffered cock cage and put it on. It was tricky at first but the blunted spikes on the inside shrunk you down to a reasonable size soon enough. Anything to see
this action, you told yourself. But part of you knew you loved being bossed
around and degraded. You tried to rub yourself as you watched, but the locked chastity cage thwarted any satisfaction.
You
assumed they would let you out afterward. Assumptions, assumptions. Anise takes you aside and lets
you know the score. Your fiancé belongs to her now and you serve them both. You
cry, grateful and terrified. Anise removes your engagement ring while you do
so. “We’re just going to take your wedding reservations, okay? Will you be her
bridesmaid?”
You
nod, racked with sobs. Your fiancé…um, your former fiancé, squees and hugs you quickly
before kissing her wife-to-be passionately.
What I’d said was: “Maybe dress a little sexy for this dinner. Laugh at his jokes. Be friendly but you don’t have to flirt with the guy. Well, only a little, if you feel comfortable”
What she’d done was trick me into trying chastity play “just for one night.” A night that has now lasted a week. Then she had friended him on Facebook, started flirting nonstop, eventually sending him lewd photos I had taken at her request (”just for us, babe”). Now here I was waiting in my boss’ car, locked in a cock cage, while my fiance dined with him, wearing the most scandalous dress I have ever seen.
God, I wish I could jerk it.
Two Months Later
Somehow my fiance got the promotion despite not working there and never having held a job in the field. I was reassigned to be assistant on the project. As the most knowledgeable, I do the brunt of the work while they go to meetings and take the credit. The boss spends a lot of time in his office with the door closed, “consulting” with my fiance. Her feedback is…exuberant and…loud.
I should know, since I lost my office and got reassigned to a small desk just outside my boss’ door. He claims I’m not a secretary but I noticed he let his go at the same time I was moved over. He calls me a ‘team player’ and a ‘good sport.’ He also sends me out for coffee or lunch orders. My fiance, meanwhile, dresses me in tight pants and shirts. I worry people can see my Cyberlok cock cage. Though mostly people seem to stare at (and slap) my ass.
Unrelated, but people have been occasionally telling me to smile. (“Show us that pretty smile.” “A cute young thing like you should smile more. It will brighten the office.” “Smile, honey. That’s better”) Weird. That’s never happened before. It makes me angry to be told what to do by random coworkers and strangers, but I still involuntarily smile when told. Even if it’s unnatural, it actually brightens my mood. My anger dissipates almost immediately. It’s so nice to see how much it makes them happy when I smile as instructed. I never made anyone or myself so happy when I was a supervisor, telling others what to do. I’m starting to wonder if I didn’t get the better end of the deal, after all…
Is it cheating if I didn’t even take my clothes off? 😉
Definitely not cheating. And any boyfriend who says otherwise is just irrationally jealous. Sometimes a friend just needs a little release. That’s what friends are for. Be a good friend. Be a good girl.
You had to admit you looked pretty good in the outfit. You’r girlfriend had been encouraging you to run, shave, grow your hair. She said she liked pretty boys…
So why was she on her knees in front of this big hairy jock?!
“Ah my Fallen Angels. Please bring your newest initiate over here and put her on her knees so she can watch and learn from an old pro.”
You were in shock and they easily managed to drag you over and push you down. Your girlfriend was really going to town.
“Good. Good girl. Yes! Mmm, just like that. Notice how she cradles and sucks on the balls? That’s important. It’s not all about the shaft.” Just then you saw your girlfriend suck two of her fingers into her mouth. She pulled them out glistening, winked at you, and began working them into the bully devil’s asshole while she took his cock back in her mouth. “Goddamn! Mmm. Now that, James- excuse me I mean Janey, you’re Janey now – is an advanced technique.”
A little later you were being held down by the two friends while your girlfriend sodomized you with a strap-on. Your bully watched and offered tips. Eventually he grew impatient and took over.
‘Princess’ had been your pet name for your girlfriend from the start. You even used it around others. Your mean coworker thought it was girly and a sign of weakness. He made fun of you frequently and mercilessly.
“You’re such a fucking beta, bro! ‘My princess!’ Eesh. But seriously dude you’re just giving her too much power worshiping her like that. A girl needs a man to take a stronger hand. Call her babe, chick, or slut even but not princess. Unless…is it like a sex thing? Does she dress up like a bimbo Disney princess and let you ravage her while she calls out for Prince Charming to save her?”
“What? Ew. No, we’re not into weird infantalizing and rapey stuff like that.”
“Yeah, right, dude! If she likes being called princess then she’d love being treated like one. You just need to make sure you get the better end of the deal. All girls secretly have rape fantasies. That’s what rape culture means.”
“I…that’s not…no.”
“You try getting raised to be a sex object and see what fantasies you end up with. I’m just helping girls who are already broken by the system achieve some joy.”
“Uh, you’re such a woke meathead, huh? That’s not us. We love and respect each other.”
“Sure you do, but she doesn’t call you her Prince, does she? Thought so. Wise up and give your girl what she craves or someone else will.”
Later that week your Princess mentioned the meathead had friended her on Facebook. She hated him but didn’t want to cause trouble for you so she accepted. You tried to get her to unfriend but she thought that would be more trouble than sticking it out.
Soon she started complaining about all the sexist, rapey memes he posted. Some to her wall! Just block him, you urged. But now she was looking at it as a sociological experiment. She wanted to understand the mind of a misogynist bro. Maybe she could change him.
That’s how she ended up agreeing to get coffee with him once a week. She didn’t tell you. He did. When you brought it up she just said she thought you’d overreact. He wasn’t as bad in person, she said. She was getting through to him. Though she did have to listen to his weird hypotheses about how women could find liberation by embracing objectification. So dumb, she told you.
So it was a surprise when she agreed to an exchange of principles. She’d dress really slutty all week and post OotD to instagram if he’d stop catcalling women and be really respectful instead. Then they’d see how much this changed each of their minds. He swore she’d like the attention if she just leaned into it for a while. She thought he’d come to find women responded to him better if he didn’t harass them. You hated this. But she wouldn’t back down.
At least you got most of the benefit of seeing her dress up. And he was nicer at work. You asked him about it.
“I figure you’re so emasculated that you’re basically a girl, dude, so I should be more respectful to you too.” Ugh. Had to ask.
At the end of the week you got this snapchat while they were out on their coffee date…
ProblemCollectionLove 