Led By Her 7: A Dominant Female, Submissive Male, Public Humiliation & Cuckolding Tale Read online

  Led By Her 7

  A Dominant Female, Submissive Male, Public Humiliation & Cuckolding Tale

  By Tinto Selvaggio

  Copyright 2015 by T. Selvaggio

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the author. Reviewers may quote brief passages in reviews.

  Twitter@tintoselvaggio

  Tinto Selvaggio Blog & Newsletter

  Cover Design by D. Luck. Cover Image: Coat And Gloves In Snowy Weather” by Stuart Miles

  Courtesy Freedigitalphotos.net

  This is work of fiction contains graphic sexual content and is for mature audiences only. It is intended only for those eighteen years of age or older. All sexually active characters portrayed in this ebook are consenting adults eighteen years of age or older. As a work of fiction, any similarities to any situations or persons living or dead are entirely coincidental.

  Description:

  Dominant female Becky is unable to keep her BDSM relationship with the adoring Lynne and her submissive husband Stuart a secret any longer.

  So when an attractive new couple move into her neighbourhood the cruel dominatrix decides the time is right to reveal her femdom side.

  She organizes a house party at which she'll expect Stuart and his wife to display their submission to her through public humiliation and more.

  Will Stuart really let Becky subject him to outdoor and group humiliation, severe domestic discipline while his wife is cuckolding him with multiple partners?

  Does Becky really have that much control over Stuart's wife Lynne and if so, how will the others at the party react?

  This 16,250+ word short story ebook adventure, written from the husband’s point of view, contains explicit descriptions of sexual action and other activity including public humiliation, domestic discipline, domination, submission, cuckolding body worship and whipping.

  Chapter One

  “What do you mean by ‘working’ at your party Becky? What would you want me to do?” My wife shifts position on her knees in front of her friend and looks up. Her hands have stopped moving on the beautifully arched foot that rests in her lap.

  I’m kneeling too, but alongside the sofa upon which Becky reclines. My arms ache from holding out the silver tray perfectly straight in front of my bare chest. On the tray are Becky’s gold mobile phone, coffee cup and a TV remote.

  “I’ll need you to help me get the place ready for my guests - both of you obviously,” Becky sighs and I sneak another swift glimpse at her short black skirt and those bare legs.

  My wife lowers her head and continues working the silver tool into the cuticle area around one of Becky toenails. Lynne’s face is studious, her fingers moving with the precision of a Swiss watchmaker.

  Watching my wife’s complete absence of self-consciousness as she kneels in jeans and tight cream jumper tending to the feet and toes of her friend, it’s hard to believe how much has changed between her and Becky.

  I chance a quick glance across to the window - it’s still snowing outside.

  “I want the people who come to the party to see what kind of relationship we have,” Becky leans back into the leather sofa and snaps her fingers in my face. I straighten my back and shuffle a little closer to her on my knees to make it easier for her to reach the tray. The padlock on my chastity belt knocks on the casing as I move and Becky frowns at me.

  “I want some of my other friends to see what you’re both prepared to do for me.” Becky’s elegant fingers with their freshly painted crimson nail polish reach for the remote control. She flicks idly at the huge Samsung screen above the fireplace. Keeping my face dead ahead I allow the corners of my eyes to slide over and down towards the neckline of her red blouse. Her top two buttons are undone and that regal chest taunts my sex-starved eyes. There’s a familiar twitch between my legs and as I swell, the spikes inside the chastity belt begin to nip my flesh.

  “But I don’t understand why we have to do that.” Lynne’s voice is thin from the floor as she continues at Becky’s feet.

  “Are you ashamed of what we have, of what you do for me?” Becky presses her finger on the volume control and the green bars on the TV screen shoot down reducing the sound to silence.

  “It’s not that Becky. I just don’t see why we have to involve others. They wouldn’t understand.”

  I know better than to chip into the conversation of course, but Lynne is saying pretty much what I’m thinking. Its one thing to willingly give ourselves in servitude to this mesmerizingly attractive and cruelly domineering woman; but letting others know about it is something else entirely.

  “Do you really think I’d invite people who were likely to be offended by what they see? You let me worry about whether other people understand or not. “ Becky snaps.

  “Sorry Becky I just meant...”

  “I’m not talking about a house full of people,” Becky says sounding irritated, “Just two other couples – to see how you cope. Julia and Ray are two of our oldest friends - Dominic and I have known them for years. Trust me, nothing shocks that pair. And in any case Julia saw your husband dressed exactly as he is now while we were on holiday.”

  Lynne looks up at me naked except for my chastity belt before continuing with the pedicure.

  I shiver as I remember the embarrassment of being introduced as ‘Becky’s slave’ to this older woman Julia. Being made to strip off as Becky bragged to her about how she kept me in chastity. The older woman’s hand groping and twisting between my legs, examining the same pink device that hangs heavily there now. And the sound of her laughter.

  “Where’s the fun for me in being able to do this kind of thing if I have to keep quiet about it?” Becky flicks trough the TV channels, “Everyone likes to show off their possessions don’t they? Car, home, phone.....slaves. You two should be proud I want to make an exhibition of you.” She laughs

  “I know but...” my wife looks up from her knees first at me, then Becky. Her jaw looks clenched.

  “You’ve got no idea how hard it’s been for me having to keep quiet for so long about all this have you?” Becky sits up and leans over my wife. Lynne doesn’t answer; she keeps her attention down on Becky’s feet.

  “It was such a buzz letting Julia in on our little secret while we were away. Her face when she saw what I could get Stuart to do!” Becky’s eyes gleam. Down below her, Lynne moves both her hands to Becky’s other foot.

  “Of course I don’t know our new neighbours Cara and Evan quite so well.“ Becky says, “But I’ve had a couple of nights out with her already and she seems very open-minded.”

  I can’t help wondering whether anyone could possibly be open-minded enough to easily accept scenes like this one in here at the moment.

  “Cara and Evan are both rather hot as well- as you’ll see on Saturday.”

  I sneak a look down at my wife and she’s blushing while her fingers move around the smallest of Becky’s toenails on the delicate foot she’s holding.

  I force my eyes away from Becky’s bare feet and legs. Not solely because she doesn’t like me staring. I have no way of adjusting the position of my chastity belt if those spikes around the inside start to seriously dig into my cock. I don’t want to get too aroused. It’s better to try and keep my eyes and my mind on something else.

  Something like how cold and wet I was after clearing Becky’s drive of snow for her when we first got here this morning. Or something like how I’m sure that guy across the roa
d was smirking at me while I was scraping the ice off Dominic’s car for him before he went off out.

  Becky stretches and changes the TV station to a shopping channel.

  It seems so long since weekends were our own for my wife and I. Now we have to organize them around Becky’s needs and requirements. Generally we both come here on a Saturday. Sometimes, like today, it’ll mean an early start for us because Becky wants to go shopping at the mall. I have to tidy up the house and garden, wash and clean inside and Lynne helps Becky with her hair, make-up and nails.

  Perversely I’ve started getting jealous of the intimacy Lynne shares with Becky. All I ever get are the menial tasks.

  “You’ll like Evan - Cara’s husband Lynne,” Becky’s eyes widen; “He’s a real hunk.” she giggles and although my body is perfectly still her words have me squirming inside.

  “What if they tell other people about us Becky?” My wife obviously isn’t sharing Becky’s amusement or her excitement about the forthcoming event. Lynne lifts her chin up to gaze at her beautiful friend and her eyes have filled up.

  “You worry too much Lynne. Who cares what people think anyhow?” Becky reaches over to me for her coffee mug, her breasts shuddering inches from my face.

  Down on the floor my wife replaces the cuticle tool into the small white leather pedicure set she keeps solely for tending to Becky’s feet. Shame seeps through me at the mental image of myself searching our bedroom trying to find where the leather case is kept in between visits here.

  A lock of Lynne’s fair hair falls over one of her eyes and she moves it around an ear before picking the nail clippers from the leather case.

  Originally Lynne had suggested a low footstool would be needed to give proper pedicures but Becky had refused. She said she’d prefer Lynne to use her lap and hands to hold her feet steady. She said that would ensure Lynne gave her ‘complete attention’ to her.

  Kneeling here on the carpet, my knees aching almost as much as my outstretched arms, I wonder just how much I’d give to feel the cool alabaster skin of Becky’s feet in my hands again. Only once have I felt the buttery flesh of her soles and that was so long ago.

  “Stuart’s quite happy about a public show of affection aren’t you?” The leather sofa squeaks as Becky turns to face me. Blue-gray eyes glare at me. She reaches across to pinch one of my nipples between long fingernails. Her fragrance fills my nostrils and a smile plays across her lips. The nipple stiffens and she squeezes the flesh until her fingertips whiten. My mouth opens in a silent scream and I almost drop the tray.

  “Hold it straight!” her mouth tightens and her slim wrist turns, twisting my nipple.

  “You didn’t answer my question did you Stuart’?”

  “Y-y, yes Becky.” I exhale as she releases my nipple and tosses the remote control back onto the tray.

  “You can please yourself Lynne, the pair of you can. I’m tired of having to explain myself all the time to you both. If you don’t want to help me at the party, if you’re ashamed of what you do for me - then don’t come!” Becky folds her arms across her swollen chest and pouts her luscious lips like a spoilt brat.

  “Becky, that’s not what I meant,” Lynne stops mid-clipping. “I was just trying to understand what you wanted. I didn’t say we wouldn’t do it.” She puts down the nail-clippers and her hands instead begin to massage the shapely foot. She lifts it to her face and holding it there; Lynne brings her lips together and kisses the tops of Becky’s toes.

  The pout slowly dissolves from Becky’s face and is gradually replaced by a wide smile and a narrowing of her eyes. She looks like a contented cat. Lynne lowers her head and touches her mouth over Becky’s ankle and instep as softly and delicately as butterfly wings.

  “Leave us Stuart.” Without looking at me Becky flicks her fingers in my direction like she’s trying to shake something distasteful from her hand.

  Chapter Two

  I lie on my back in bed waiting for my wife to come and join me. I always feel so horny on Saturday nights after we’ve been to Becky’s place. Not that there’s much you can do about it when you’re shackled inside a chastity belt. I know I can sometimes drive my wife mad pestering her for ‘sex’ but I can’t help myself. The fresh, mental images of Becky hang like portraits on every wall of my mind, plaguing and tormenting me whenever I’ve seen her. The woman is never far from my thoughts at any time, but when I’ve been close to her chastity at night is almost impossible to endure.

  “What do you think about this party of Becky’s?” I adjust the tough plastic shell encasing my yearning cock.

  “I don’t know.” Lynne looks miles away as she sits at her dressing table wiping away the last traces of her mascara. Her hair is up in a pony tail behind her head. “It’s just the idea of other people seeing us, knowing what goes on with Becky,” She pauses and looks at my reflection behind her in the mirror before adding: “And with Dominic.”

  “But it’s not like any of the other people are our friends is it? I mean we don’t really even know them do we?” Normally the possibility of being ‘outed’ in our submissive roles might have been unbearable, but nearly 30 nights of sexual starvation don’t help you think rationally.

  “Have you met this Cara girl?” Lynne approaches the bed adjusting her ponytail behind her and the hem of her short pink night dress rides up her thighs.

  “I’ve only heard Becky mention her,” I say, “She’s moved in a few doors away from her hasn’t she?”

  “What’s Becky said to you about her?” Lynne’s face flushes as she climbs into bed. I feel the smoothness of her bare leg against mine and my cock pulsates. Maybe she’ll let me go down on her tonight. If I don’t get too carried away and I make sure I control my thinking it might be bearable despite the spikes between my legs.

  “Becky didn’t say that much about her really. Just that she was a new friend, that she was pretty and has her own interior design business. I think Becky might be going to ask her to do some design work for her.” Lynne’s face visibly tightens with my words.

  “She seemed more concerned with telling me how good-looking Cara’s husband is.” I shrug, suspecting Lynne may be feeling jealous of this other woman. I need to try and improve my wife’s mood. ‘Sex’ isn’t looking too likely for me at this precise moment.

  After we turn off our bedside lamps Lynne is restless next to me for a long time. The covers are pulled and shuffled this way and that.

  “Don’t worry about it Lynne.” I say eventually into the darkness, “We won’t have to do anything we don’t want to. Like Becky said, it’s entirely up to us whether or not we get involved in her party isn’t it?”

  Fearing the worse but unable to resist any longer I let my left hand drift across under the duvet to my wife. I wish I could ask her what goes on when she’s alone with Becky like she was when I was sent from the living room today. She doesn’t like to talk about it to me though.

  She isn’t trying to remove my hand from her waist so I lean up in bed. I kiss her forehead then brush her warm lips with my own.

  She lies silently in my arms and I wonder whether at this moment we’re both thinking of Becky. Images and sensations of some of the physical punishment and torture I’ve experienced at her hands fill me with longing. Those slender fingers twisting my nipple so confidently today, leaving me pathetically feeling like I’ve shared some sort of intimacy with her. The very memory of it fills me with a rush of elation. Like a teenager in the arms of their first love.

  I pull my wife hard into me, kissing her warm, receptive mouth. Her lips part and I wonder whether Lynne sometimes feels the same sense of insecurity and longing about Becky that I always have.

  My hands caress the sides of Lynne’s face through her hair. Her legs move against mine. I move a hand down the bed to inch-up her night dress. She lifts her hips and ass slightly off the mattress to aid me undressing her.

  I throw her nightdress out of the bed onto the floor and kiss her pert breasts. Her nipples
rise steeply and immediately. I draw them between my lips wondering whether Becky has ever done the same to her.

  As I slither down under the covers kissing my wife’s flat belly, I think about the possibilities for this party. Could there be a repeat performance of being tied to the bed and sat on by Becky? I groan out loud as my face reaches the shaven mound of my wife’s sex. The groan a combination of the ecstasy of the prospect of Becky’s ass over my face and the spikes which are digging mercilessly into my swelling semi-erection.

  My tongue flicks across my wife musky entrance and her thighs undulate around the sides of my head.

  If it did mean a repeat performance of being underneath Becky would I give a damn who was watching?

  My tongue laps and probes around my wife’s slippery pussy and high above me she’s moaning loudly.

  The distinct possibility strikes me that here we are, a husband and wife having sex (of a kind) and both fantasising about the same other woman. Our sex lives and even our minds controlled by the same glorious female. A female who at this moment is nowhere in sight and probably couldn’t care less.

  Oh God Becky, do you know what you’re doing to us? What you’ve reduced us both to?

  My wife’s feet are on my back and now she’s pushing her sex hard against my face. My tongue aches and my mouth is flooded as her thighs tighten hard around my head. I feel her body spasm and think I recognize the word ‘Becky’ amongst her muffled cries as she comes.

  Calm again now in the darkness. Lynne’s breathing has slowed and quietened and I adjust the position of my chastity belt to move those relentless spikes away from my flesh.

  “If we did decide to go to Becky’s party,” Lynne’s voice is throaty. My pulse accelerates with the confirmation that she may have made up her mind to do what her friend wants.

  “She says she’ll want to go shopping for a new outfit on Thursday after work. She wants us both to take her.”

  With my mind racing I know sleep tonight is still a long way off.