Cuckolded By My Boss & Wife Part 4

              Victoria sighs deeply, her eyes half-closed as she recalls the way Richard’s hands had felt on her body earlier. The touch of his strong, confident hands guiding her through her workout, his every move exuding a raw, masculine energy that sent shivers down her spine. The way he’d grinned at her, that sly, knowing smile. The way his muscles had rippled under his shirt as he’d helped her lift heavier than she ever thought possible.

             Her body stirs just thinking about it. A warmth spreads from the pit of her stomach, slowly making its way lower. She shifts slightly, pressing her thighs together, feeling the heat begin to pool between them.

           Her mind flicks to the way he’d whispered in her ear, the way his lips had brushed so close to her skin as he corrected her form. "Good job, Victoria," he’d said, his voice deep and gravelly, sending a wave of heat straight through her. "You’ve got so much potential."

             Her breath quickens at the memory, her fingers now lightly grazing the side of her neck, imagining his lips against her skin. She bites her lip as her mind drifts again to that moment—the two of them, alone in the gym, the air thick with unspoken tension. She’d caught him looking at her, not as a colleague, but as something more, something he wanted. And oh, how badly she wanted him too.

She picks up her phone and messages him.

Victoria: Hey, Richard. Any luck finding those keys yet? 😏

Richard: Not yet. Why, are you in a hurry to unlock Peter?

Victoria: Hmm... not exactly. Let’s just say I’m not missing much with Peter being locked up. 😈

Richard: Poor guy. Sounds like he’s not measuring up. Am I wrong?

Victoria: Not at all. Let’s just say he’s... inadequate in more ways than one. 😒

Richard: That’s a shame. A woman like you deserves someone who can actually keep up. 😏

Victoria: Exactly. That’s why I haven’t been too concerned about finding the keys. It’s not like Peter can give me what I really need anyway. 😘

Richard: Well, if you’re looking for someone who can… you know I’m always up for the challenge. 😎

Victoria: Oh, I know you are, Richard. Strong, confident... everything Peter isn’t. 💋

Richard: If that’s what you want, Victoria, I’m ready to prove it to you. Just say the word. 😏

Victoria: Be careful what you offer... I might just take you up on it. 🥵

Richard: I’m counting on it. 😉

Victoria: Good. I can’t wait to see you for dinner on Thursday 🥰

Thursday came soon enough and Victoria was sitting at her vanity table in red lingerie applying red lipstick.

          "Peter," she says sweetly, glancing at him through the mirror as he enters the bedroom, a teasing smile curling at the corners of her lips. "I'm heading out for dinner with the girls tonight."

         Peter feels a flicker of anxiety stir in his chest. "Oh, really?" he asks, trying to mask the tinge of disappointment in his voice. "I thought we were going to spend the evening together trying to remove the chastity belt..."

            Victoria’s smile widens, and she continues applying her makeup with slow, deliberate motions. "Oh, I know, but sometimes a girl just needs some time out with her friends. Anyway, the belt is titanium. It can’t be cut off or removed so it would be a waste of time"

           She leans slightly forward, adjusting the strap of her bra, giving him a better view of the neckline that dips just enough to hint at what’s beneath. Her body language is playful, seductive.

             Her eyes meet his in the mirror again, and she tilts her head, sensing his obvious frustration. "Don’t worry, darling. I’ll still be thinking about you." She lets out a soft laugh, her tone sultry, almost mocking in its sweetness. "But you know... I have a feeling you’re going to be missing me a lot more than I’ll miss you."

           Peter swallows hard, his body growing more tense. "Why’s that?" he asks, his voice barely steady.

           Victoria glances up at him again, her expression light, but her eyes dark with teasing intent. "Well, you know, being alone in here, with all this time on your hands..." She lets her fingers trace along the edge of her lipstick, the gesture almost hypnotic. "I bet you’ll be thinking of me the whole time while your cock is all locked up."

             She pauses, letting the words hang in the air, the playful spark in her gaze never leaving. Peter’s eyes follow her every movement, and his chest tightens with an all-too-familiar yearning.

            "Maybe you’ll find yourself imagining me out with my friends….or Richard," she continues, her voice low now, like a slow burn. "I’m sure you’ll have plenty of... time to think about different scenarious while I am out with the girls"

             With that, she stands, smoothing her dress over her hips and giving him one last, lingering look. "I’ll be back later, Peter. Try to behave, okay?" Her smile is both teasing and knowing.

            Peter watches her as she walks to the door, feeling the heat of his desire intensifying. He’s left standing in the quiet room, knowing full well that tonight, like every night, he’ll be left to his own fantasies of her without getting to cum.

          The house is eerily quiet after she left, but the silence only intensifies the frustration building inside him. Peter can hear the sound of his own breathing, shallow and strained as his eyes dart to the clock. Victoria is out, leaving him here to suffer alone, locked and helpless, every passing minute stretching into eternity.

          His cock twitches painfully against the confines of the cage, the pressure unbearable. He tries to shift positions, but it does nothing to relieve the ache building in his groin. He curses under his breath, his hands gripping at his waistband, futilely tugging at the cage as if it might somehow loosen.

It won’t. It never does.

            Peter’s mind drifts to Victoria. He can’t stop thinking about her—how she always seems to know exactly how to push him to the brink, how her teasing always leaves him hanging, desperate for more. And now, she’s out, leaving him alone to simmer in this unbearable tension.

            He knows she’s doing this on purpose. She knows he’s alone, knows the chastity belt is driving him mad, and yet the keys are nowhere to be found. A part of him hates the feeling of being left like this, but another part of him—his body—aches with longing, the need for her overwhelming.

            He runs his hand through his hair in frustration, trying to focus on anything but the constant ache between his legs. But all he can think about is the way she flirts with him, the way she teases him when she’s around. The thought of her wearing those revealing outfits, her seductive smile, the way she would sway her hips just out of his reach... it’s enough to make him even more desperate.

            His fingers slide down the waistband of his pants, reaching for the cage once more. But again, he’s met with resistance. Trapped. Helpless.

             A groan escapes his lips, and he kicks the coffee table in frustration. His body is on fire with need, and all he can do is wait. Wait for her. Wait for her to come home, to unlock him, to finally give him the release he craves.

             But deep down, a part of him knows she’s doing this on purpose. She’s making him wait. Making him suffer. And there’s nothing he can do about it.

           The minutes stretch on, and Peter’s thoughts spiral as his body reacts to every little memory of Victoria’s teasing. Her flirtation. Her control. He knows she’s enjoying this—her power over him, the way she leaves him yearning, desperate, and entirely at her mercy.

            He looks at the clock again, sighing in frustration. Another hour passes. Another minute.

           “Here, try this. You’ll love it,” she said, sliding her fork across the plate and lifting a piece of dessert to his lips.

           Richard leaned forward, letting her feed him the bite, his lips brushing the fork. “Mmm, you’re right. It’s incredible. But you know,” he added with a smirk, “I think it tastes even better coming from you.”

           She laughed softly, her eyes sparkling. “Flatterer. You’re just trying to get more dessert out of me.”

          “Can you blame me?” he replied, reaching across the table and lightly grazing her fingers with his. “I’d want more of anything you’re offering.”

         She smirked, twirling her wine glass between her fingers, the crimson liquid catching the light. Leaning forward slightly, she ensured his gaze didn’t miss the way her dress dipped just enough to tease.

         “You know,” she said with a sly smile, “Peter would be mortified if he knew we were having this conversation.”

          He grinned, tracing the edge of her hand with his thumb. “Oh, I’m counting on it. He’s already halfway there, isn’t he? Locked up, watching from the sidelines…”

            She tilted her head, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “He has no choice, really. It’s all he’s good for. Honestly, Peter’s never been able to satisfy me.”

           His grin widened, a knowing gleam in his eye. “That doesn’t surprise me one bit. The guy doesn’t exactly scream ‘alpha.’”

            She laughed, shaking her head. “Not even close. He’s clumsy, timid… and frankly, I don’t think he even knows what to do with me. If you only knew how many nights I’ve been left frustrated.”

             “Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea,” he teased, his fingers sliding a little further up her hand. “That’s why you need someone who knows exactly how to take care of you.”

             Her gaze dropped to his hand, and a playful smile curved her lips. “That’s exactly why I’m not rushing to find those keys. Peter locked up just feels… right.”

             “Poor guy,” he said with mock sympathy, though his tone dripped with amusement. “Do you think he knows how useless he is, or is he still in denial?”

           “Oh, he knows,” she replied, smirking. “Every time he sees us together, it’s like he shrinks a little more. It’s actually kind of adorable, in a pathetic sort of way.”

           “Pathetic’s the perfect word for it,” he said, chuckling. “I mean, how could he ever compete with me?”

           She leaned closer, her voice rich with intent. “He couldn’t. That’s the point. He’s not even in the same league as you.”

           The waiter arrived briefly, placing their next course on the table. They paused just long enough to thank him, their smiles innocent but their eyes still burning with unspoken tension.

         “And how do you plan to… ease him into it further?” he asked, picking up a piece of steak and holding it to her lips.

           She took the bite, her tongue just barely brushing his fingers before pulling away to savour the moment. “Oh, I have a few ideas,” she replied, her voice teasing. “But it’ll start with little things. Watching more, participating less. Until he fully understands that this…” She gestured between them with a playful glint in her eyes. “...is how it’s meant to be.”

             Leaning closer, his voice dropped to a low, intent murmur. “And when he finally does? What then?”

            Her fingers trailed along the rim of her glass as she answered with a soft, knowing smile. “Then we won’t have to hold back anymore.”

            The tension between them was electric, their conversation laced with innuendo, laughter, and promises. As the night deepened, their connection grew, each word and touch reinforcing the unspoken plan they were weaving together.

The next say Victoria entered the living room with a smile on her face.

           “Peter, you’ve got to see this!” she says brightly, plopping down beside him. She holds her phone out, the screen angled toward him with a photo already loaded.

           Peter looks at the picture and immediately feels a knot tighten in his stomach. The image is of Victoria in Richard’s arms, his muscular, shirtless frame gleaming under the gym lights. His powerful arms hold her with ease, her body draped over him like she weighs nothing. Her hand rests lightly on his chest, fingers splayed over his sculpted abs, and her smile is radiant—almost glowing with pride and satisfaction.

            “Richard helped me set a new squat PR today,” she gushes, beaming. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? I couldn’t have done it without him.”

             Peter’s face turns crimson as he stares at the photo. Richard’s confident grin, his glistening physique, and the way Victoria seems so comfortable in his embrace make Peter’s stomach churn.

           “Why… why isn’t he wearing a shirt?” Peter stammers, his voice cracking slightly.

            “Oh, he gets so hot when he’s spotting me,” she replies breezily, brushing her hair back with an exaggerated movement. “He always takes it off when he’s working with me. Honestly, Peter, it’s like he was sculpted out of stone. And his strength! He just scooped me up like I weighed nothing.” She glanced back at the photo and bit her lip playfully. “Doesn’t he look incredible?”

            Peter shifts uncomfortably, his hands gripping his knees. “You’re… lying on him,” he says weakly, unable to tear his eyes away from the picture.

            “Well, of course!” she says, her voice dripping with amusement. “It was a celebration. I was so proud of myself, and Richard’s always so supportive.” She glances at Peter with a teasing smirk. “You wouldn’t know what that’s like, though, would you?”

           Peter’s face turns a deeper shade of red, his gaze darting to the floor. “I-I could go to the gym with you,” he offers hesitantly, his voice barely above a whisper.

           Victoria laughs, the sound light but cutting. “Oh, Peter, you’re sweet, but… let’s be honest, the gym’s not really your thing, is it? I mean, no offense, but you’re not exactly built for it.”

           Peter winces, the words stinging more than she seems to realize—or perhaps exactly as much as she intends.

           She leans closer, her voice dropping into a playful, flirtatious tone. “Richard’s just so... dedicated. He’s there for me in every way I need. Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without him.” Her fingers trace the edge of the phone screen as she looks at the picture again, her lips curling into a sly smile. “He makes me feel so… supported.”

            Peter swallows hard, his jealousy and humiliation bubbling beneath the surface. “I-I could help you, too,” he mutters, though even as the words leave his mouth, he knows how hollow they sound.

              Victoria tilts her head, looking at him with a mixture of amusement and indulgence. “Oh, sweetie, that’s adorable,” she says, patting his hand lightly. “But Richard’s strength… it’s on a whole other level. I mean, just look at him.” She holds the phone up again, pointing to the image as if Peter hadn’t already memorized every detail.

He shifts uncomfortably, his face burning as he nods faintly.

            Standing up, she stretches, the movement deliberate, her body lithe and confident. “I’m going to hop in the shower,” she says, glancing over her shoulder with a teasing smile. “Maybe next time, you can come watch me and Richard train. You might learn a thing or two about being… supportive.”

            Peter says nothing, his humiliation complete as she saunters away, her phone still in hand. The image of her draped over Richard’s chiselled frame is seared into his mind, a painful reminder of his inadequacy. From the bathroom, he hears her humming softly, her mood seemingly unaffected, while he sits in silence, flushed with embarrassment.

           Victoria seemed determined to push the boundaries of their intimacy, making each night together more adventurous and tantalizing, while Peter squirmed helplessly in the restrictive confines of the chastity belt.

           She stands by the bed, her hands resting on her hips, watching Peter as he lies there, spread-eagle. His wrists and ankles are tied securely to the bedposts with soft, fluffy cuffs. She had coaxed him upstairs with a coy smile, but now the air is charged with something deeper—power, control, and teasing mischief that she’s clearly enjoying.

           “You look so cute like this, Peter,” she purrs, trailing her fingers lightly along his chest. He flinches slightly at her touch, his face already flushed.

          “V-Victoria,” he stammers, pulling weakly against the restraints, “w-what are you doing?”

           “Oh, relax,” she says with a smirk, leaning over him so that her hair brushes against his face. Her voice drops into a sultry whisper. “I just want to have a little fun… and talk.”

Peter squirms, his face burning brighter. “Talk about what?”

           Straightening, she walks to the edge of the bed and picks up her phone, turning it in her hands with deliberate slowness. “About Richard,” she says, her tone casual but dripping with implication.

Peter’s entire body tenses. “W-Why… why Richard?”

            She lets out a soft laugh, sitting on the edge of the bed and crossing her legs, her movements graceful and deliberate. “Because you can’t hide it from me, Peter,” she says, glancing down at him with a knowing look. “I’ve noticed how horny you get every time I bring him up.”

He shakes his head quickly, his voice rising in panic. “I-I don’t! That’s not true!”

           “Oh, really?” she teases, leaning in closer again. Her hand trails lightly down his chest, stopping just above his stomach. “Then why is it that every time I mention him, your face turns as red as it is right now?”

            Peter’s mouth opens, but no words come out. He looks away, his cheeks burning even brighter.

           “Hmm,” she muses, tilting her head as if considering something. “Maybe it’s because you know he’s everything you’re not.”

           Her words hit him like a punch to the gut, and he squirms against the restraints. “T-That’s not true!” he protests weakly, but his voice is thin and uncertain.

           “Oh, Peter,” she says with a soft, mocking smile. “Don’t deny it. I’ve seen the way you look when I talk about how strong he is… how confident… how satisfying he is in ways you’ve never been.”

           His eyes widen, and he shakes his head violently, his voice cracking. “Stop it! That’s not fair!”

           She lets out a soft, almost pitying laugh, her fingers now tracing lazy circles on his chest. “You get so worked up,” she whispers, leaning in until her lips are just inches from his ear. “I think deep down, you like hearing about him. Maybe it’s because you know he’s the kind of man who can really take care of me… in ways you never could.”

           Peter’s entire body tenses, and he shakes his head again, his voice breaking. “N-No! That’s not true! I-I don’t—”

          She cuts him off with a finger pressed to his lips, her smile widening. “Shh, Peter,” she coos. “You can deny it all you want, but your body says otherwise.”

           Her hand drifts lower, her fingers teasingly brushing over the outline of his chastity cage. He squirms, his face going even redder. “Look at this,” she murmurs, her tone almost clinical but laced with teasing. Her fingers cup his caged balls, massaging them gently but firmly.

Peter gasps, jerking against his restraints. “V-Victoria, stop!”

         “Oh, what’s this?” she says, her voice mock-innocent as she presses her palm against the cage, feeling the dampness beneath it. She tilts her head, her smile turning wicked. “Is that… precum? Oh, Peter…”

         He turns his head away, squeezing his eyes shut, his humiliation complete. “I-It’s not because of that! I’m not—”

          Her laughter cuts him off as she leans down, her lips brushing his ear. “Don’t lie to me, Peter,” she whispers. “The precum says it all. You are turned on by this, aren’t you? Deep down, you like hearing me talk about Richard. About how much stronger he is… how much more of a man he is than you could ever be.”

Peter’s entire body shakes as he stammers, “N-No! I’m not… I don’t!”

           She straightens, her fingers still teasing his sensitive flesh as she smirks down at him. “You can deny it all you want, sweetie,” she says, her voice dripping with amusement, “but your body doesn’t lie. You’re turned on. And the more I talk about Richard, the more you can’t help it, can you?”

          Peter lets out a small, choked noise, his humiliation written all over his crimson face.

           “Don’t worry,” she says, patting his cheek mockingly. “I think it’s adorable. And honestly? It just makes me want to tease you even more.”

           Her laughter fills the room as Peter lies there, powerless and humiliated, unable to escape her words—or his own body’s traitorous response.

           “Peter,” she says, her tone suddenly turning serious, though her smirk remains. “There’s something else I need to tell you.”

          He looks up at her, his face already burning with shame, his body still trembling from her relentless teasing. “W-What?” he stammers, his voice barely a whisper.

          She steps closer, leaning down so her face is inches from his, her voice dropping into a sultry whisper. “Richard knows.”

           Peter’s eyes widen in shock, and his mouth falls open. “Knows what?” he asks weakly, though the sinking feeling in his stomach tells him he already knows the answer.

              She straightens, crossing her arms over her chest and tilting her head, her smirk growing. “He knows these are the keys to your chastity belt,” she says, holding up her phone and flicking to a photo of the very same keys that had gone missing. “I told him everything.”

             Peter’s entire body stiffens, his face going as pale as it is red. “Y-You told him?” he chokes out.

            “Of course I did,” she replies breezily, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I thought he should know what they were for—after all, he had them for a while, and I didn’t want him to accidentally throw them away. That would’ve been a disaster, wouldn’t it?”

          Peter’s head spins as he struggles to process her words. “You… you told Richard? My boss?” His voice cracks, and he pulls weakly at the restraints, his humiliation pouring out in waves.

           Her grin widens as she leans in again, her fingers lightly brushing against his caged length. “Oh, yes,” she purrs. “He knows exactly what they’re for. And don’t worry—he’s agreed not to tell anyone at work. As long as you…” She pauses, letting her words hang in the air like a loaded weapon. “...pass a simple test.”

Peter swallows hard, his voice trembling. “W-What kind of test?”

          Her laughter is soft but wicked, and she taps her finger against her lips as if considering her answer. “Oh, nothing too difficult,” she says with mock sweetness. “Just a little way for you to show your true colours.”

             Peter’s face is a deep, mortified crimson as he shakes his head weakly. “T-This can’t be happening,” he whispers, his voice breaking.

           “Oh, it’s happening,” she says, standing tall and placing her hands on her hips. “Richard has the keys, Peter. Your boss holds the key to your little cage. How does that make you feel?”

            He closes his eyes tightly, his entire body trembling with humiliation. “Please… don’t…” he whispers, but the words feel hollow and powerless.

           “Oh, poor baby,” she coos, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Don’t worry. If you’re a good boy, I’m sure he’ll keep your little secret safe. But just imagine if he decided to throw those keys away… or mention it at the office.”

           Peter’s eyes fly open in panic, and he stares up at her, his lips trembling. “Please… I’ll do whatever you want,” he pleads, his voice cracking with desperation.

         Her smile softens into something almost affectionate, but her tone remains teasing. “I know you will, sweetie,” she says, patting his cheek. “That’s why I love you like this. So willing. So… obedient.”

           Peter closes his eyes again, a wave of humiliation washing over him as her laughter fills the room. She stands and walks toward the door, her hips swaying confidently, leaving him tied and trembling, the weight of her words—and Richard’s knowledge—settling heavily over him.

          Peter didn’t know what sort of test they had in mind to reveal his true colours, but he knew he was going to have to be prepared for what happens next.