Absolute Control Pt. 02

Peter could not reply. Fiona took his face in her hands and kissed him softly. Then she sat back and smiled warmly at her broken baby.

"It will be a very long evening for you I think. Come now, it has been a long day, time for bed."

On Saturday morning Fiona went out shopping leaving Peter with instructions to change the sheets on their bed and clean the house from top to toe. Peter felt the house start to crush him as he went from room to room. He knew he was preparing the house for his wife's lover and it made him feel incredibly hot. In the bedroom he spent ages changing the bed, making sure each crisp white linen sheet was perfectly ironed and was neatly in place, flat and wrinkle free. He plumped up each pillow in a new pillowcase and changed the duvet cover. Everything looked fresh and clean and he closed the door carefully. He didn't know how he felt, but his penis oozed into his panties as he descended the stairs.

That evening Peter busied himself downstairs, arranging and re-arranging ornaments and plumping up pillows in the living room. He couldn't keep still, and time seemed to be dragging on forever.

Fiona was lying in a hot soapy bath, her left leg in the air. She drew her pink razor down her calf and felt the smooth skin. Then the right leg. Her toe nails were bright red and her feet slim and feminine. She was trying to keep calm and in control. This was going to be a very special evening.

When Fiona came downstairs Peter was surprised to see how normal she looked. He had half expected his wife to descend the stairs like a Queen in a black negligee or a short nightie. Fiona had chosen a plain black skirt below the knee and a crisp Ivory blouse. She looked beautiful, but her beauty was presented subtly, adding to the intensity of the moment. Fiona had chosen her outfit to stir in Peter emotions of love, lust and a desire to protect her. She could see in hjis eyes that he desired her more than ever, but tonight she was going to be someone else's.

Fiona said nothing at first, seating herself in an armchair opposite the sofa as if to make a point about the distance that she was putting between herself and her husband this evening. Peter struck a lonely figure alone on the sofa, hands on his knees looking shyly over to his wife. You could hear a pin drop.

A minute later a car pulled up outside. The door closed and the gate squeaked open. Peter's heart started pounding.

"Open the door Peter and greet my guest."

Peter looked at his wife in panic. He wasn't actually going to meet him. Surely she wasn't expecting him to endure that."

"Peter."

Fiona's voice was calm but authoritative. There was no question of disobedience.

Peter stood up. His wife had made him change into jeans and a jumper much to his relief.

"Your femininity is mine, no-one else's' she had told him.

Besides we don't want Ian to think that you are some sort of pervert now do we now?"

Peter stood up. One minute at a time, he thought to himself. If it is too awful I can always just go into the garden. He was shaking now. Fiona smiled to herself. This was just too incredible for words.

Ian was a good looking man, about Peter's age, perhaps an inch or so taller and quite chiseled in his features. He greeted Peter with a warm handshake and waited politely to be asked in.

"Yes hello. I am Peter. Come in."

Ian wiped his shoes politely on the mat and came in.

"Fi is in the living room."

Peter led the way and Ian followed him in.

Fiona stood up and kissed Ian on both cheeks warmly.

"How nice to see you. Do take a seat. Can I get you a drink? A glass of wine perhaps"

"That would lovely thanks. Whatever is open."

Fiona turned to Peter.

"Would you dear?"

Peter left the two of them together and prepared the drinks in the kitchen. The situation was just so ordinary, a guest for drinks on a Saturday evening, and yet this was the most incredible rush.

When he returned Fiona was sitting on the arm of the sofa with her hand on Ian's shoulder. Peter put the tray down on the coffee table and handed Ian and Fiona their drinks. He then took his and sat opposite them on the armchair again.

"Cheers!" Fiona said brightly, clinking Ian's glass.

Peter started to rise from his seat to clink their glasses but the moment had passed. Again he felt a twinge of isolation. His conversation had withered away and he sat there wondering what on earth could happen next to make the atmosphere in the room any more charged.

Fiona took a long sip of wine and then stood up.

"We are going upstairs for the evening Peter. I want you to stay here until we come back down. I want this door left open and the television off thank you."

Ian stood up and followed Fiona out of the room in silence, and Peter watched his wife as she walked upstairs closely followed by her lover. He sat down. Nothing could have prepared himself for the erotic pain and humiliation of that moment. He thought his penis would burst from its cage.

There was very little noise from upstairs for the first half an hour or so. Peter flicked through the paper and tried to think about anything other than where his wife was. Then he heard a giggle, followed by a gasp. Peter looked down and bit his lip. Try to breathe normally, he thought. It was happening now.

Fiona took her time in the bedroom. They chatted and sipped their wine, and they kissed for the first time after about twenty minutes. She undressed slowly, teasingly, running her fingers through his hair, pulling his belt open, sliding her hand into his zipper. She wanted this to be an evening of unhurried sex, not a squalid quickie. That was exactly the point. She wanted to choreograph her humiliation of Peter over as long a period as possible, and she wanted to enjoy Ian's hard cock inside her over and over again.

She was not to be disappointed. That is exactly what she did enjoy, and over and over again.

Peter was treated to all manner of gasps and screams throughout the evening, each one burning into his soul. How cruel for Fiona to keep the bedroom door open. He recognized all her sounds, they had been up to this point personal and intimate reflections of their own love life. Not now. His wife was upstairs being fucked gloriously by another man and was clearly enjoying herself enormously, and it was he who asked her to do it. His humiliation was complete. He stared at the ceiling as the lightshade quivered rhythmically in time with the thumping headboard as Mrs Fiona Carrington let out a long high pitched scream that filled the house with the sound of infidelity.

"Well Peter, if that is your wish then yes, you can change your mind. "

Peter looked at his wife. It was early Sunday afternoon and they sat opposite each other in the kitchen over a light lunch. Fiona looked radiant and full of life, still dressed in her nightie and a thin robe. She had reason to be. She had spent almost 14 hours in bed until Ian had slipped quietly out of the door at 10 am this morning. Peter had fallen asleep on the sofa at 5am and missed his departure. But when he woke up the agony of the previous evening returned to haunt him almost immediately.

"Yes, I am prepared to keep you in permanent chastity, but you must understand that I can't reverse what has happened last night. Nor would I want to."

Fiona uttered the last sentence quietly, but with a cold and brutal honesty in her voice.

"In fact Peter, I can't wait for the next time."

"But Fi. You gave me a choice, and I made the wrong one. I can see that now. I was silly thinking that my release, even temporary was worth this happening. I don't think it is, and I will try to be a good husband in chastity again, without other, other men involved."

Peter was welling up. Fiona was getting wet.

"As I said Peter, I understand your wish, and you may stay in chastity. But I can't unfuck Peter and you can't take back your request for me to do that. You asked me to sleep with Ian and that is what I did, and what is more that is what I will continue to do. You made the choice darling, I simply went along with your wishes."

Peter knew that everything was now hopeless.

Fiona placed her knife and fork down neatly and taking Peter by the hand she led him upstairs. He looked helpless and lost. The bedroom was a mess, and the sheets were still damp and ruffled. Fiona sat on the edge of the bed and undid her robe, lifting her nightie up to her waist. Peter kneeled down in front of her and pulled her panties down, pulling them over her buttocks, down over her knees and then off. Fiona lent back, her elbows on the bed and wrapped her legs over her husband's shoulders. Peter was going to spend the afternoon cleaning, starting with his wife.