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Webster faced the future bleakly. He lay on the bed listening to the party downstairs. His wife Chloe’s friends, brother Lucas’s friends. Eventually, the friends would drift happy and drunken away. Then Lucas would bring her up to the master bedroom and the fucking would begin.

Webster wished that he could masturbate. But it become a supplemntary condition of his younger brother Lucas’s, that if he stayed in the house then his cock must be caged. What a conversation that had been! Chloe, his wife, had seated herself cross legged opposite them, her dress riding up whilst Lucas casually dictated terms to his brother in the cosy bar of the White Lion public house.

‘You live by Chloe’s rules and on my terms’ Lucas had intoned a little confusingly.

But then it had been confusing and not a little traumatic. Webster had discovered the affair, that his younger brother was not only playing tennis with his wife, but fucking her too. There had of course been a fight anf of course the younger and fitter male had won. Webster remembered how the two of them had fought, Chloe watching them contest her. There had been a look in her eyes. This conflict was primal and necessary. May be Webster might have won, but Chloe rather doubted that! She had never seen a more lithe and well muscled young man as Lucas and he was very very determined. One of the men had to be beaten and subdued and it would be her husband. She knew that Lucas savoured control. He would beat his older brother, take her as his own and a new order would begin. Three blows, a split lip and Webster lay panting on the floor begging his sibling not to hit him anymore. He wouldn’t make a fuss. He didn’t need another beating! Lucas had won. As Webster lay on the floor, Lucas had kissed his wife slowly, indulgently. She had kissed him too, gratefully. It was simply stupid to pretend whom she favoured any more.

For a week or two after that Chloe had dated her new man without comment or explanation. Webster watched her dress provocatively and step out to join Lucas in his Porsche. Lucas, fresh out of the marines, a captain there and now with his own quickly expanding business, it was an appealing mix. Ashamed of himself Webster had decanted to the small guest bedroom next to the master suite. He felt battered and confused. He wondered whether Lucas would demand that he leave. Chloe said nothing. Then had come the pub conversation, his wife in the black leather dress that seemed almost a skin across her curvaceous body and Lucas hard faced.

‘I’m moving in and you will treat Chloe as the mistress of the house. Give her any trouble and you get a hiding’ Lucas said coldly, his hands curling into fists even as he issued the warning. How he must have hated Webster. Their parents had favoured the older brother. He was the steady brother, the one who would take over and run their farm. Lucas had seemed the wayward brother.

‘You will do the chores about the place, you will cook and clean after your day on the farm and you will do all that mistress requires of you.’

Well Webster already cooked, but now his wife was to be lifted from all her domestic duties. ‘You’ll show your commitment to the new life by buying Chloe a watch like mine’ Lucas ordered. Webster had checked the man’s wrist. A Cartier Santos chronometer, a watch that would cost several thousand pounds. Not only would that stretch his modest finances, but people would look and gossip. Did you see Chloe out with Lucas? Did you see that they have matching watches? Hmmmn. In a small farming community, nothing, aboslutely nothing, was secret.

Webster bought the watch and winced as he saw his wife clip it on her pretty wrist and continue to wear it daily. Then later, he listened in the cold nights of the autumn as his brother fucked his wife in the bedroom next door. Their love making was brutal, causing the bed to creak and then eventually to knock rhythmically against the wall. One night when Lucas had taken his mistress out to dinner, Webster had tried to tighten the nuts on the bed, but to no avail. The rhythmic banging, head band knocking sex continued and eventually Webster had masturbaed to the music of that. He imagined his wife leg’s hoisted up over the burly man’s shoulders his cock ramming relentlessly inside her lovely body. One morning soon after a ring had gone missing and Chloe had searched for it in Webster’s bed. She suspected that the ring had been stolen, a symbolic resistance to the new arrangment. It was then that she had smelled what he did there. She saw the tell tale pale yellow stains on the sheet where Webster’s spunk had splashed… and she told Lucas. The cage had then been swiftly purchased and Chloe fitted it onto Webster’s genitals, squishing his cock and scrotum through the retaining hoop of metal. Her cold fingers were immaculately manicured, unblemished now by any kind of domestic work. There had been a prim little ‘click’ as the lock was closed and she told Webster that she would hold a key and another would be retained by her lover. Webster had no emergency release, not even if he had to go to casualty.

The next few weeks then had been misery. He wanted to walk out but there was nowehere else to go. He had no other business or trade to ply. This was his home, or at least it had been, until the deeds were signed over solely into Chloe’s name. Chloe seemed aloof, superior, even arrogant in her demeanour. It was as if the life style had not only settled but that her ascendency now seemed inevitable to her. Webster would watch her dress in the freshly washed and ironed blouse, the hunt jacket, cream jodphurs and highly polished boots to ride her gelding Rupert whilst he mended fences up on the top pasture. That Thursday lunch time, when she had returned from her ride, and he had returned to the house to serve a simple lunch, he was ready to submit to her…properly. Webster stared a the crotch of her jodphurs. He stared at the damp patch there, the sweet excitement mark of sliding on her saddle and up against its pommel. She had barely remarked upon the food he had served. She had barely given him eye contact, but right then, Webster knew that he would abase himself before her. He would never leave, he could never leave, he needed to serve the bitch.

‘You’re ready aren’t you….to serve me…..properly’ she said at last, sipping her glass of cider.

Webster nearly wet himself. Despite his cage in place his cock stirred, pulsing against the metal. She looked so perfectly centred, so sure of herself, as though the lifestyle that she now led had been ordained. She knew what a cock constraint did to a man. Without the chance to masturbate he concentrated on her body, her requirements in a new and an attentive way.

Webster blushed. He looked down, it was simply too much. In a moment though, his mistress had risen to her feet and quietly, without fuss, eased down her jodphurs. Without comment she had turned about and pushed her bare rear, her pouting sex towards his face.

‘Go on then, lick it! Lucas said that you would. Eventually you would bend your knee and worship what he fucks.’

She glanced about, looking back at his blood red face. She didn’t sound impatient, nor yet amused. This was simply a confirmation of what would be. Her look signalled resolution, a coming together of that foretold.

Webster pressed his lips tentatively against her bare buttocks. He licked her cheeks and she looked forward again, simply confirmed in her predictions.

‘You hate Lucas…don’t you?’ she asked, wriggling her bottom against his sliding tongue.

‘Yes’ Webster admitted. He couldn’t lie. He couldn’t lie about that.

‘But you’ve lost haven’t you? Lucas is the boss. Your brother fucks me……not you’. Chloe’s voice was husky. She seemed to be elswhere as she whispered the words.

‘Yes’ Webster admitted, his heart plummeting down a ravine somewhere deep wthin him.

‘I like the way Lucas dominates you….I like the way he humiliates you in front of me’ she said. Webster felt her press back, pushing her arse against his tongue now. Each lap started down on her cunny and slipped upwards between her tight cheeks.

He licked the bitch lavishly. Shutting out her words as best he could he licked that which he longed to fuck again. Her body there, her sex, it was so perfect. It had been used, stretched, her sex lips swollen with blood, pouted more than they once did, but it was perfect pussy.

‘Once you start sucking Lucas’s cock’ she said dreamily, ‘I will let you wank a load over my pussy. Would you like that? Would you like to pull on your cock again?’

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