Black Marks 1 -Chapter 4

ASHLEY

“Oh,” I say as I return to our bedroom from the shower, and for a second I can’t hide my disappointment. “Don’t you want to wear your black outfit when he gets here?” I’ve got a bath towel around me and I stare at my wife in her low-cut white vest and tight blue jeans. She’s barefooted and her ponytail is so fair that it’s almost white.

Don’t get me wrong, the top shows the tops of her firm tits and it pushes them out and up. But I was hoping she’d go for more of that femdom look for Ian. Especially as this will be his first time in our home.

“I’m not dressing up for someone who’s coming to clean the house,” Marcie says and opens one of the drawers in her dressing table. Her chest sways as she pulls out her makeup bag.

At least she’s putting makeup on for him.

“I think he might be expecting a bit more than just chores,” I say, but don’t want to push her too hard. It was difficult enough convincing her to finally let him come here. She hasn’t been interested in anything like this since before Finn went to work away on that new construction contract. And that night at Traders when he and my wife did it on that bed in the dungeon in front of me and Ian feels now like it never even happened.

“Ian is staying in the area on a Friday night specially,” I gently remind her, “He’ll be paying for his hotel room himself. His firm won’t fund a weekend night. And he’s driving out to the house to see us,” I say and my eyes are drawn to the swell of her round rear. Denim doesn’t reveal her shape quite as well as leggings would, but her butt is still impossible to keep your eyes off.

Especially when you know the effect it has on the guy who’s coming here.

My cock firms up under the damp towel.

“He’s the one who wanted to come here,” she says to the mirror, “He can take me as he finds me.”

“God, you can be harsh,” I say and approach her from behind. I smile at her reflection in the mirror and hold the tops of her bare shoulders as I kiss the back of her neck.

“I can feel that poking in my back,” she purses her lips in the mirror.

I peer down at the bulge in the front of the towel.

“Are you going to put your chastity belt on too?” she asks without looking at me.

“But I thought you and me..,” I mumble, “You know, I thought we could do it in front of him again,” I say, but even as I do, and even though there’s certainly some disappointment at her question, excitement twists through me too at what my hot wife has suggested. That I be denied tonight too, no different from a man who’s on his way here to be treated like a slave by her.

My heart races. Chastity does more to a husband than just distort his thinking when he’s denied. It’s like a lot of other aspects of this whole lifestyle. Addictive. It feeds off itself.

Marcie finishes darkening around her eyes and she turns to me. “I’ve been thinking it would be horny to have you both locked again at the same time,” she smiles and feels the front of the towel, between my legs.

I groan.

“We haven’t done that without Finn, have we?” she asks.

“No,” I gasp as her hand disappears inside the towel. A mental image pops into my head of both Ian and me locked during that incredible last session at Traders.

“And I need my fun too if you insist on me having another man here.”

“Uhh, Marce,” I gape and hold her wrist as she masturbates me, “But what about you? Won’t you want sex tonight?”

“I might make you use your tongue to please me,” she breathes right in my face and strokes me steadily, “Show Ian what he’ll never have.”

“Oh, Marce that’s so hot,” I lean forward to kiss her mouth but she turns her face away and avoids my lips. Then she laughs.

I groan again.

“Put your belt on,” she whispers and releases my cock.

“Marce I’m going to need to cum before I stand any chance of getting the cage over my dick.”

“Go and get it,” she gestures with her eyes.

I love the way she’s started to order me around lately. Ever since that S&M night. Ever since I started wearing the cage. She looks so hot when she acts this way.

The transparent chastity belt is in the bottom drawer of my nightstand. Still in the box it came in, along with both the little padlock and key. I return to Marcie with it.

“Carry on doing what you were doing before Marce,” I say and put the box on our bed. She’s on her feet now too and I offer her my erection, “Finish me off so I can put it on.”

“Why can’t you do it?” she says with a little smirk. “Go on, jerk off for me. Like the dirty boy you are.”

“Come on Marce,” I frown and cup my balls, grip my erection.

She shakes her head and purses her lips. “I want you to do it for me,” she motions with her eyes.

Now’s the time to ask. I’ve been waiting for the moment.

“OK, but will you let Ian kiss your feet tonight, Marce?” I glance down at the floor where she’s standing, “Like you did that first time we went to his hotel?”

Marcie nose crinkles.

“Go on Marce,” I say into her ear and start to slowly stroke, “You know how he loves them. Let him kiss your feet. And your legs.”

“We’ll see,” she cups my balls in her hand.

“Marce, you’re so hot,” I gasp, “I’m going down on you for as long as you say tonight.”

“Mmm, I know you are,” she kisses my neck.

I work my dick faster through my hand and inhale the faint scent of vanilla from her neck.

“Don’t get it on my clothes,” she murmurs.

“I won’t, I won’t, Marce.”

“You let him in,” Marcie says to me in the living room when the doorbell rings a little after seven p.m.

“Don’t you want to?” I ask with my heart thumping. But I thought she’d want to order him around the minute he came through the door. I hope she’ll make an effort with him tonight. I thought that me being in my belt too excited her. She even put the key to it in the pocket of her jeans.

“I’m going to get myself a glass of wine,” Marcie rises barefoot from the sofa and sashays toward the kitchen.

“Where do I take him?” I whisper after her and then push a hand down into the front of my cargo pants to adjust the grip of the chastity belt.

“Tell him to wait in the hall for me,” she says over her shoulder.

My heart races as I make my way to the front door.

“Oh. Ash,” Ian reddens when I’ve opened the door to him. “Hi. I bought something for..,” he clears his throat, “For Mis…for Marcella,” he holds a gift-wrapped box. “Chocolates,” he mumbles, “I didn’t want to come empty-handed.

“Right,” I say and the madness is that I redden too.

I hold the door open so he can come inside. And then I close it behind him. “She said you should wait here,” I say.

“Of course,” he nods. “Should I take my jacket off or…”

“Yeah, hang it up on the rack there,” I gesture to the wall.

Marcie appears a moment or two later with a large glass goblet of red wine. The corners of her mouth are turned down.

She looks sour but beautiful at the same time. In character.

“Ian brought you some chocolates,” I say and the poor guy can’t look at her. His cheeks are now a deep shade of scarlet.

“That’s nice of you,” she barely glances at him. “You can put them in the fridge to keep them cool for me. I’ll show you the kitchen. That’s where you’ll be starting work.”

“Yes, Mistress Marcella.”

I stand back with my heart pounding and my trapped dick fit to explode.

My wife strides back toward our kitchen with her hips swaying while the podgy, middle-aged businessman tries to keep up with her long-legged stride.

I squeeze my chastity belt but I’m not sure where to go or what to do now. Follow them into the kitchen, or just wait in the living room?

But I don’t want to miss anything. So I follow to the kitchen.

“Start with the dishes,” Marcie points at a pile in the sink. “We left everything since dinner last night because we knew you were coming this evening.”

“Yes, Mistress Marcella. Thank you.”

Marcie points out which cupboard the different items are to be stored in once he’s dried everything and he nods along in understanding.

“When you’ve done those, you’ll find a bucket and liquid for washing the floor. The mop is in that tall cupboard over there. See to it that you get into every corner and don’t miss anything.”

“Yes Mistress Marcella. Shall I take my clothes off?”

“You can,” Marcie says but her face suggests she doesn’t care either way. “And what you can also do is keep your eyes raised, away from my boobs when you answer me. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mistress Marcella, Sorry Mistress.”

Man, I can’t help but feel sympathy for the guy. My wife’s boobs half-out on display in that low-cut top and right in his face, but him warned to not even look at them.

“You can show off your pretty pink chastity belt while you’re working,” Marcie crosses her arms and smirks at him, “You do have it on, right?”

“Of course Mistress. I don’t have the key to take it off. You do.”

“You’re not the only one under lock and key this evening. Is he Ash?” Marcie’s attention turns to me and she gives me a little smile.

Ian’s side-eyes me but I look away.

“Right, off you go,” she waves him to the sink, “ but listen out for me calling. You can bring drinks when we need them.”

“Of course, Mistress Marcella.”

“Ash, haven’t you got a beer?” Marcie asks me.

I shake my head.

“Beer for my husband,” she snaps her fingers twice and indicates the fridge.

Ian hurries to it and pulls a can of Bud out. Then despite Marcie’s earlier instructions it takes him two attempts to pick the right cupboard but he finds where the glasses are kept and then he faces us again. “Shall I pour it Mistress M..?”

“Uh-huh,” Marcie nods.

I stand and watch his trembling hands as he does so and then he hands me my drink.

“I think you should call Ash ‘Sir’ tonight too,” Marcie smirks at him.

“Of course, Mistress Marcella. Sir,” Ian looks at me and lowers his head.

“Marcie there’s no need for that,” I whisper to her under my breath. Marcie just laughs and takes my hand. She leads me out of the kitchen and back to the living room.

“I don’t want him calling me ‘Sir,” I say as we lay together on the sofa.

“I might want him to,” she says and grips the front of my pants and the chastity belt inside.

“You’re so hot, Marce,” I lower my face to her cleavage, and kiss the exposed top of it. Where he’s forbidden from even looking. The guy is so obsessed with my wife that he’s in our kitchen, cleaning it for her!

Marcie strokes the top of my head as she reaches for the TV remote.

We watch a time travel rom-com movie together but although she seems absorbed by it, I keep peering out toward the kitchen and then later watch the naked man across the room in our dining room with his additional instructions to use a duster and furniture polish in there.

It’s surreal. Who would have believed my wife could be the kind of woman to lay here after giving a man in a pink chastity belt instructions to clean our home around us?

But then again, for the longest time I never believed Marcie would ever take a lover. Never mind let two other men like Finn and Phil fuck her at once.

She twists a little as she lays alongside me and her fleshy backside squashes against my caged groin. My cock twitches in it’s hard case and I groan.

“How are you in your little prison?” she reaches behind to feel between my legs.

“Frustrated,” I say and kiss the back of her neck, “especially when your butt moves against me.”

“Like this you mean,” she pushes back hard against me then grinds her buttocks into my disabled cock.

How can she be so cruel to me and Ian, and yet so submissive when Finn or Phil have a hold of her?

The question makes my cock surge.

Marcie drains her wine and calls out to our guest for a top-up.

Ian appears in front of us a second or so later.

His face is flushed again as the padlock stops knocking against his hard pink belt. He looks like he lost a little weight from his man boobs. I read somewhere that long-term chastity can raise a man’s metabolism. Maybe that’s what happened to him.

Or maybe he’s tried to lose weight to look better for my wife.

“You’ve stayed out of our bedroom when you’ve been dusting, I hope?” Marcie hands him her empty glass goblet.

“Yes Mistress Marcella. Like you told me to.”

“If you do a really good job cleaning, then you might get a special visit in there before you leave,” she extends a leg and the tips of her bare toes push at his exposed chastity belt.

She’s nearly touching his dick.

“Uhh, thank you, Mistress Marcella,” he groans and closes his eyes. His whole body trembles.

“Sir will have another beer too,” she tells him with her right leg still extended and her toes still in place.

“Yes, Mistress.”

I drain my drink but can hardly swallow the dregs of beer.

“You’ll find a pen and paper in the top kitchen drawer,” Marcie says to him and finally draws her right leg back to the sofa alongside her left.

Ian gasps.

“Bring them back with the drinks,” she tells him, “You can write down our takeout order then phone it through to the Chinese.”

“Do they deliver Mistress, or will you need me to go and pick it up?”

“You’re hardly dressed to go anywhere,” Marcie laughs.

“No, I’d get dressed first, Mistress,” He stammers and reddens again, an empty glass in either hand.

“Just go and bring what I told you,” Marcie sighs like she’s bored and she waves him away.

“Are we going to order something for him too?” I whisper in her ear when we’re alone again. My heart thunders in my chest and even without putting my fingers down my pants to check, I can tell that pre-cum has dibbled through the bars of my cock cage.

“I’ve got a better idea than that,” Marcie murmurs and she grinds her butt back into my groin again.

“Stop doing that to me, Marce,” I groan and lift her blonde ponytail aside. I press my lips to the back of her neck.

“Mmm, you really want me to?” she purrs.

“No.”

Later, after we’ve eaten, Marcie shocks me by giggling as she puts her plate down on the kitchen floor and inviting Ian to kneel and eat the scraps from it.

He does it in front of us. Feverishly. He gobbles up her discarded remains like a flabby, shaved dog while she giggles with a hand in front of her face. Man, I don’t know whether to just watch his eager performance or stare at my wide-eyed wife.

When he’s finished, she tells him to clean the bathrooms (including Finn’s), and then after she and I have enjoyed another drink she pulls me up off the sofa and calls him into our bedroom after us.

When she and I are in there and sat on the end edge of our bed together, he appears at the doorway with his hands over his chastity belt.

“I don’t know why you’re hiding that,” she says and lets one demin-clad leg swing on the other, feet below still bare as she stares at him.

She knows her feet drive him wild. She’s deliberately teasing him.

“Ash doesn’t hide his. Do you Ash? Come on, you take your clothes off too,” she says to me and rests a hand on my thigh, “Ian, come in and close the door."

My cock throbs and pushes hard into the bars of the chastity belt.

Ian does as he’s told and then Marcie leans back a little and with her palms spread wide on the bed on either side of her, she watches me stand and strip.

I’m only embarrassed for a split second. Why should I care? Who’s Ian to judge me? And it’s not like Finn or Phil are here either for me to try and compete against. There’s no stress in this situation. Plus I need to do exactly what Marcie wants. Keep her keen to do something like this again too. It’s been a long time coming.

I take off my shirt and push down my pants and shorts.

When I’m naked and exposed in my belt too Marcie beckons me to stand nearer the bed. Then she leans forward from the dge of it and wraps an arm around my bare thigh, her fingertips caress me there.

I try not to groan out loud.

Ian looks on and swallows hard.

“Lay on your back,” she says thickly to him and points at the carpet near her bare feet.

“Yes, Mistress Marcella,” Ian mumbles and gets down on the floor. His breathing is rapid.

Marcie looks down as he rolls onto his back and her arm moves from around my thigh then she fondles my bare balls.

This time I do groan out loud.

She inches forward a little on the bed and extends her left leg. Her cleavage hangs heavily in her little white vest as the tips of her little toes touch Ian’s balls.

Oh, Marce. She’s touching him there again.

Ian whimpers and a little smile curls on the sides of my wife’s wide mouth.

“Mmm, is that good slave?” she asks him and with her hand she kneads my testicles too.

“Oh Lord, yes Mistress.”

“I should punish you tonight really,” she pouts and digs his toes harder into his balls.

“Ohh,” he gasps, “Yes Mistress. Do whatever you want to me.”

“Don’t worry, I will,” she says and rubs then twists the ball of her left foot into his belly, then higher up his chest.

“Oh Mistress,” he groans.

“Keep quiet!” she hisses at him and she kicks his balls with the top of her foot.

Ian’s head rises sharply and he blows out his cheeks, several times.

Shit man, that must have fucking hurt.

Marcie gives me a sly look and she stands up. She pops the button on her jeans and wiggling her hips she rolls the denim down her long legs.

Fucking hell, Marce.

She’s wearing skimpy red panties.

Ian watches her transfixed on his back on our bedroom floor.

But he’s not the only transfixed one.

“Fuck Marce, you look so hot,” I mutter and grip my chastity belt in both hands.

“Sit where I just was,” she says to me.

I do as she wants, perch myself on the end of our bed that’s still warm from where her butt was rested.

She turns her back on me and then smiling over her shoulder in her vest and red panties, she sits on my lap.

“Fucking hell, Marce, this isn’t fair,” I gasp at the intoxicating weight and warmth of her semi-bare butt on my frustrated groin. I grimace but half-laugh too and then hold both sides of her fleshy hips.

“Who said anything about this needing to be fair?” she grinds her butt from side to side, torturing my incapable, squashed groin. Then she leans forward towards the hypnotized Ian, who’s up off his back now - despite being told to lie down -and he’s kneeling, gazing in adoration at my wife. She laughs and sways her boobs in his face. She rubs her partly-exposed buttocks into my groin as she does. “Do you wish you could touch these, slave?” She holds her boobs almost right in his face.

“More than anything Mistress Marcella?” he croaks.

“But you never will,” she smiles at him.

“I don’t deserve to,” he says, voice hoarse.

I hold tight to the sides of her butt, and push my groin up hard.

“That’s right. You don’t,” she grinds herself on me even more. “Bring me my jeans,” she tells him and points across our bedroom to where she dropped them.

Ian crawls across the floor to my wife’s discarded pants with his chastity belt swaying and knocking between his legs. Then he brings her jeans to her.

She pushes a hand into the pocket and then offers me the key of my chastity belt. “Let yourself out, Ash,” she says.

Relief and excitement combat a confusing sense of disappointment at the prospect of freeing myself.

I lower my head though and carefully start to unlock the device. Gingerly I try to avoid the discharged pre-cum all over the transparent cage as I pick the genital prison apart then ease my cock free.

It’s more than a little red and sore-looking.

Marice peels her panties down her thighs and exposes her vagina to the kneeling Ian.

“Uhh,” he groans again as he gazes at her.

“Keep your eyes on mine,” she gestures above her nose.

Ian nods his head.

Marcie peers back over her shoulder and then reaching down she takes my erection in her fist and squats on it.

“Uhh Marce,” I groan as I enter her heat. She’s drenched, slippery as hell. I grip her hips and push up hard into her.

“It’s a pity there’s no real man here for me tonight isn’t it?” she asks and gently rides it.

“Oh yeah Marcie,” I gasp.

“Mmm, I like it when my Finn shows you two how a real man keeps his Queen happy.”

“Uhh Marce,” I moan into her back and her bare shoulders and her swinging ponytail.

Beyond her and lower, Ian gazes up at her with pupils like dark dinner plates. He holds onto his pink chastity belt with both hands, mouth gaping as he follows my wife’s every bounce on my cock.

I grip her hips harder and push deep up into her. Her pussy squelches on me, “Uhh, oh Marcie,” I kiss her shoulders.

“Mmm, let me know when you’re going to cum,” she gasps over her shoulder.

“OK,” I gasp.

It won’t take long. Is she going try and make me cum on him, like Finn did to him that time in his hotel?

She slows right up on me, she almost stops, but she grinds her hips, making me and Ian both groan at the same time. “And then when you’ve cum you can go down on me in front of him.”

“Oh yeah, yeah,” I slap upward into her pussy, frantic now at the thought of putting on two performances for a man who idolizes her. And inflamed by what she said before about ‘her’ Finn and even ‘Real’ man.

“Mmm,” she murmurs and then leans forward to Ian, making her pussy clench tighter on my cock as she and says something to him.

Is she playing with his chastity belt?

“Marce, Marce, I’m cumming! I’m cumming!”

My wife pulls up and off me, she reaches for my cock and pushes it back at me. She holds it there as I spurt hard and warm up my bare chest and around the bottom of my throat.

“Fuck, Marcie, fuck,” I gasp and my shoulders slump, my breathing fast and deep. What did she do that for?

“Right slave,” she says to Ian and he’s behind my wife gazing at her bare behind and tugging at his chastity belt with both hands, “You’re going to lick all this mess off my husband.”

Marcie? What the hell?

“Then next time you meet Finn I’ll get you to do the same to him. Mmm, or maybe you Ash?”

Author's Notes

What do you think of the way Marcie treats Ian and how her relationship with her husband has developed? Where do you see it going next?

On Friday next week we're back with 'Lanie Comes Of Age', and in the 6th episode, Joe and Rachel are confronted by multiple propositions. And they have hard decisions to make..

© 2024 Tinto Selvaggio. All rights reserved.

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.