Lynne Takes Revenge

I'm enslaved by my wife and her lover. What can I do? What do I want to do?

Lynne decided she should learn to drive about five months ago. We're both in our late twenties and I was very encouraging. That would mean we could share the driving, always a benefit on long trips and maybe even the chance of a glass of wine for me on a night out.

She asked around her friends who'd had lessons in the past year or two and someone came up with a name.

"I've been told to be careful though," she grinned. "Apparently he's got a reputation according to Jennifer."

She glanced at me. Only a day or two previously I'd been reprimanded for my perceived lack of masculinity when I couldn't instantly rise to her demands.

We've been married for six years and usually get on well, although we have our moments like any married couple. She's a pretty girl; slim with blond hair and brown eyes, she looks younger than her years. She trained as a legal secretary and is always smart and fashionable. My friends told me I was punching above my weight when we met. The one area we do disagree on is in the bedroom department, her sex drive is much stronger than mine. I tell her she should cut down on the masturbation and she gets annoyed when I can't produce an erection on demand. That's a lot of demand, believe me.

One time she upset me so much that I angrily retorted that if she felt she wasn't satisfied by me, she should go out and find someone who could service her. I was a little disconcerted when there was instant silence; I could see her think about that. Neither of us said anything more.

Whatever his reputation, she called the driving instructor, Paulo, and arranged her first lesson. He picked her up at the house and I watched from behind the curtains as she sat nervously at the wheel while he spoke reassuringly to her, showing her the controls. He was a tall, average-looking guy dressed a little too casually I thought. I wondered whether her friend, Jennifer, had spoken from experience.

I found myself with an unexpected, involuntary erection. She and Lynne are a handful together when they've had a couple of drinks. They constantly attract the attention of the wrong sort of men though it seems to arouse my wife, her panties are always stained and she can be quite dominant when she gets home.

I shouldn't look but it's irresistible. She wears such pretty panties.

He dropped her off an hour later. She was excited after her first outing.

"I've signed up for a course of lessons. Paulo says I'll be fine and I should start thinking about applying for my test if I'm still keen after three or four lessons or we can reconsider the contract. Sounds fair to me. He thinks I should be able to pass after a dozen lessons."

I worried a little about the cost, our budget is tight, but the thought of Lynne having her driving licence spurred us both on. I offered to take her out too. Paulo didn't advise that I was emphatically told: "He says only one man should be in charge of me." I didn't realise at the time that it wasn't a suggestion, it was a declaration of intent.

One dreadful evening, not long after she began her lessons, she came home earlier than expected from an outing with Paulo and caught me in the black suspenders, stockings and thong she sometimes wore for a dressy night out with her friends. I didn't hear her until there was a gasp just as I reached the point of no return. I looked up to see her standing in the bedroom doorway with a stunned expression on her face.

Her gaze dropped to observe my depravity as I ejaculated. Her expression twisted as she took in the fountains of sperm shooting from my over-excited penis and splattering on her suspender belt. Without a word, she turned her back on me and walked off, marching down the stairs and slamming the front door behind her.

I was left to dwell on my disgrace until she returned a couple of hours later. She acted as if nothing had happened. I breathed a sigh of relief and vowed to change my dirty little habit. I lasted a month; something of a record to be quite honest.

The following weeks he picked her up again. I could see her confidence grow.

"He's a good teacher. I'm learning a lot," I was informed. "He's cheerful and patient; he makes me feel at ease. This is an interesting experience."

He certainly gave value for money. Instead of the usual hour-long lesson, they were spending anything up to two or three hours together. She was also lavishing an increasing amount of time on her appearance before each lesson. When I commented on it, the next week he picked her up straight from her office. Maybe that should have alerted me.

They were seven lessons in when she announced that Paulo was so pleased with her, he wanted to introduce her to night driving. They were going to up the lessons to two nights a week as her driving test was due soon although she wasn't sure she was ready, perhaps she needed a few more months. I was feeling a wee bit ignored but thought of the eventual benefits.

"I'm in the mood to indulge you. Since you were tolerant of me out driving tonight, I'll be tolerant of you too," she said to me in the bedroom one Friday night, peeling off that day's very glamorous red satin bra and panties combination as I lay in prosaic pyjamas in bed. I made a remark about them being rather risqué for the office. She didn't reply.

As I said, she's slim, 34-24-34 with 34C breasts, quite heavy in the bust but beautifully proportioned. My gaze flitted across her chest, her nipples stood out prominently, over her navel and down to her muff. I was startled; she'd trimmed her blond hairs and shaved the sides. I could see her sex quite clearly. Between that and the underwear, my penis immediately stiffened.

"Why have you done that?" I mumbled. She pulled back the quilt to observe my engorgement, put one foot on the bed exposing herself more fully, reached down to wrap me in her flimsy panties, she knew I liked that, and stroked me vigorously. They were already very moist and sticky. She smiled.

"Summer's here. I'm going to get out more this year, sunbathing I mean. I could do with some sunshine in my life. You like me with a tan. Would you prefer I keep the white bits or not? Maybe I'll find a quiet spot and go naked. Don't you like it? My new improved bikini line? It's been in vogue for years but you didn't seem bothered and I couldn't be arsed with the upkeep. I'm thinking about taking it all off, it might be easier to keep myself fully depilated."

I couldn't take my eyes from her vagina, envisaging her shaved and exposed. It was flushed and soaking wet, what few hairs that remained plastered to her. She lowered herself onto my face and smeared it with her juice while I licked frantically, almost smothered. She hadn't washed and tasted sour, totally at variance with her usual immaculate hygiene. The scent of her stimulated me even more. I was tremendously hard. Within a few seconds I ejaculated into her underwear. She wouldn't stop rubbing herself off on me until she too came. I was drenched.

Usually we make love every week or so. It's tailed off over the past year or two but isn't that much the same in all marriages? If she sees I'm excited she'll assist me but once or twice, when I've known she was asleep, I've surreptitiously abused myself beside her, having some very disturbing fantasies.

She on the other hand blatantly interferes with herself almost daily, either with her fingers or from her selection of vibrators, delivered after the local wives' sex toy parties. She pleasures herself in front of me with absolutely no shame or inhibitions.

"It's just a laugh," she'd protested the first time, brandishing an enormous, very realistic plastic penis. "I had a couple before I met you. You get given them as presents and sooner or later you succumb, it's like putting chocolate in front of an addict. Sooner in my case; damn sight quicker and less effort though arguably not so shattering. And I had to buy something."

The last party had been only a fortnight ago hosted by Amanda, one of her three drinking buddies on their monthly payday nights out, no husbands or partners welcome. Eight of them swilling wine and gossiping, she'd arrived home feeling frisky, demanding I do my duty. I hadn't admitted I'd given in to temptation and relieved myself while she was out. Disgruntled, she'd kept me awake half the night wanking herself into a frenzy with her favourite dildo.

This time she'd bought a selection of underwear. She displayed it to me the following Friday evening, looking fabulous if very tarty in a shimmering aquamarine basque and g-string with black stockings and heels.

"I bought something else," she turned from the bedroom mirror. "The girls wondered why I ordered it in a different size. I told them it was for you and they all giggled."

She held up a full-length totally transparent black nylon nightdress, side split from bust to hem with a decoration of scarlet ribbon around the chest. It was completely revealing, the sexiest thing I'd ever seen. Was she really encouraging me to wear this at home, exposing myself entirely?

"You told your friends you were buying that for me?" I stuttered. "I thought you didn't like to see me in lingerie. I stopped because I thought you disapproved."

This was a lie. I'd attempted but it had been too compulsive to stop. Growing up, I'd discovered ejaculation while caressing my recently formed erection with my elder sister's stained gym knickers. It became habit when I realised just how good it felt using her special panties. I'd sometimes masturbated into Lynne's underwear since before our marriage when I'd had an opportunity. This had progressed into dressing more femininely on occasion when she was elsewhere. I liked to admire myself in the mirror but always felt guilty after orgasm and tried to resist my urges. Until the next opportunity presented itself.

"I was surprised, that's all. Mostly, I think, because I wasn't aware you played with yourself while I was out; I didn't think you were interested." She half-laughed: "You looked excited in my undies and I've never seen you spunk so ferociously; certainly not with me. Things might be different if you'd had the honesty and decency to let your wife into your little secret, I might have enjoyed it too. I had to get my head around that but I've accepted it now. I'm still extremely angry with you though. Any more deviances you'd like to confess? Now's the time."

I shook my head.

"Why don't you get rid of those boring pyjamas and put this on for me? If it doesn't fit you'll have to ask Mandy to change it but I've agreed that with her. She told us that would be no problem unless you'd already soiled it. The girls and I had a long chat about your hobby and thought you'd probably like to wear naughty split-crotch panties to match. Try them. No, not like that, you want your knob to be sticking out, don't you? Here, I'll do it. For what it's worth, I'm keeping it under examination."

"Do they feel nice? Jen says the lace is jaggy but that you might like them digging into your balls, her husband does. She says I should depilate you too, you'd probably love that. She waxes him all over regularly and he does the same for her."

"She confronted him when she was searching for something in his computer desk drawer a year ago and found a pair of her silkiest pants, sheer black stockings and a frilly suspender belt that she hadn't seen for ages, it had been so long she'd forgotten it had gone missing, caked with semen. And he hadn't deleted his browsing history. I remember thinking at the time that you always do that so I've kept an eye on you since I found you ejaculating over my best underwear. Your security isn't very good at all; you've forgotten to press delete at least five times."

"Amazing the things you don't know about other people, even your nearest and dearest, isn't it? I thought he was quite staid when I first met him. I've looked at him in a new light since she told us. I suppose the girls will do the same with you now. He's a sissy tranny, she says. He dresses up and tosses himself off looking at other crossdressers on the internet but only when she allows him to. She admitted she quite enjoys it, especially the power. He has to ask her permission and she supervises him. We discussed that you probably did that too and I would have to start monitoring you more closely. I've been told to be strict with you. Having been through it, she's volunteered to be available for advice."

"She swears she's getting more and better sex now than she ever did from him; he just wants to wank off watching her. She asked me if I'd like to go dancing, she could introduce me to some of her new friends. I haven't been dancing for ages."

"Apparently Mandy's husband is into feet. She doesn't mind in the least, says she got the best tended insteps and sparkliest toenails in the country kept supple and soft by repeated applications of sperm. Takes all kinds."

"Suzi's single at the moment, lucky bitch. She proposed we should tart you two up and have you model saucy undies at our next party. Given that regular heterosexual intercourse with your wives seems beyond both of you, would you do that for us? I think you'd enjoy it; more importantly, we would, especially if there's a pedicure involved."

"Do you like that idea? Being made to cavort with my best friend's husband for our amusement after we dress you in outlandish lingerie? Look at your stiffy; it's standing up, it's so hard. Suspenders? Thought so. Mine are tight on you, haven't you bought anything for yourself? I'll speak to Mandy and we'll sort out some undies in your size. Let me help you with your stockings."

"Hmm, you're evidently practised at doing that. You need to shave your legs. Do it tomorrow. Tonight I'm going to try something the girls suggested. I'm going to tie you up. I want to have a dirty little tramp like you at my mercy."

I lay unresisting in her lurid gifts, penis unwaveringly rigid as she brushed against me. When I was secured to the bed, she loomed above me and grasped my testicles in her fist.

"You love it, slut," she remarked scornfully. "How long have you been masturbating in women's clothes? Since before our marriage?" she demanded, squeezing insistently. I couldn't tear away from her eyes.

"Always. Since puberty," I gasped.

"And do you play with yourself drooling over other crossdressers and transvestites while I'm out with Paulo? Exactly like Jen's husband before she caught him. Like your internet history implies."

Ashamed and humbled, I admitted my deepest secret. She glared at me in disgust.

"No wonder you've kept me frustrated, reduced to frigging myself with a plastic toy while you sneak into my knicker drawer behind my back," with a last vicious twist she released me, stripped off her new panties, leaned over and stuffed them in my mouth.

"When I walked in on you wearing my things, it explained a lot when I sat and thought about it. The more I considered it, the more obvious it seemed. How could I have been so blind? Can you imagine how humiliated I felt, knowing Jen's husband crossdressed but completely in the dark that mine did, too?"

"Do you know your wife at all? Are you aware that we haven't had sex, much less made love, since our anniversary over half a year ago? Has it also dawned on you that we haven't had an argument for months? That I've been happy? Just how dumb are you? Now I don't even bother to hide that I've been well fucked, that I'm making you clean up my lover's fresh sperm. In fact I enjoy it, seeing you covered in his come while you pay him for his time."

With a furious look to me, she picked up her mobile: "Hi Paulo, how's things?" She went through the niceties as I writhed on the bed, gagged and firmly fastened, forced to listen.

"Remember the first day we did it? You wondered why I'd changed my mind and I blurted that I'd discovered my husband was a transvestite, wanking into my pants while I resisted your overtures, the "special service" the girls told me about and the lure of a real man inside me. You calmed me down, stripped me naked, shagged me superbly and suggested that we could entertain ourselves using him, I should do some research online? Well I did and I haven't forgotten your proposition; I hope you meant it."

"I want you to come round, I've bought some sensational new undies. I want you to bring your camera. You asked me if I'd shave for you? How would you like to do it and you can take photos? All the photos you want."

"No, he's not out, he's right here. I've tied him to the bed in a very feminine nightie and stockings. He's such a little princess. You'll laugh at his panties. I want a couple of pictures of him too, for the family album. I promised I'd supply the evidence that he's a pervert. Both Jen and Mandy have experienced your prick, you came highly recommended. Not long after that you came copiously and, like the gift that keeps on giving, you've continued to keep coming copiously. We had a wee argument about just how big your cock actually is. I've been instructed to measure it but I'd rather compare it beside my husband's and let everyone judge for themselves. Would you mind?"

"Yes, drop by right now, I'm up for a fuck. I'm astonished he hasn't drained himself already, he loves these undies so much. Bring the dirty photos you already have of me. I'm going to show him how his wife looks when she's been satisfied by a man's penis. Perhaps he'll learn. See you in twenty. That'll give me time to make him look pretty for you."

She blew him kisses before turning back to me, smirking now.

"Welcome to the new regime in this house. In case you haven't already guessed, there's the reason I've been happy. You're about to find out why, although it might not be the upset I'd thought it would. Your stiff little prick is harder than ever in your panties. Now, where's my makeup case? You'll want to look your best for Paulo and the girls, won't you?"