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His Wife, My Toy: Part 1

Your wife’s my plaything now, and I don’t let anybody else touch my toys unless I say so.”
Saturday, May 24, 14:00
“You do understand that if you go through with this, I will call all the shots?”

The man across the table makes as if to pull his glass towards him, then releases his grip on it. “Yes,” he says at last. “I understand that.”

“I won’t put up with any prevarication,” I continue. “Either you’re prepared to go along with everything I decide, or we call the whole thing off.”

This time, when the man touches his glass, he hoists it and drains about a quarter of a pint in one. His hair is greying at the temples, and he seems to find it difficult to establish eye contact with me. I don’t know much about him, but meeting him has led me to put him down as an accountant or one of those low-ranking bank people – not the ones who gamble the world into recession – who are heartily sick of their jobs. “I suppose that means that if we reach a point where we don’t want to play anymore, we just stop, right?”

I hold my arms out. “If you don’t want to play anymore, I vanish from your lives just like that. Mind you, if you’re going to play the game, I don’t expect you to get cold feet over trifles.”

The man nods again, going silent, thinking. “We…” he begins, then pulls up short.

‘We’ are himself and his wife, who hasn’t joined us. I should perhaps mention at this point that to protect the innocent (or not so innocent), where necessary I shall henceforth refer to the man as ‘Cuck’, and his wife as ‘Pet’ – even in dialogue, but I’m sure you understand the necessity for discretion, dear reader; insert names of your choice if you like. Anyway, the man had contacted me on account of one or two of my stories, which he and his wife had enjoyed. A series of messages had flown back and forth; ideas had fermented.

Now the man takes another gulp, and this time he really does look me in the eye. “It’s the wife,” he says. “When we were discussing it, theoretically like, she seemed pretty keen – but now she seems a bit apprehensive.”

I smile, aiming for comforting. “That’s understandable,” I say. Then, draining my own glass, I ask, “Fancy another?”

The man does. I go across to the bar and procure the desired beverages, feeling confident enough. Back at the table I raise the glass and pour liquid into my mouth, thinking that the man doesn’t seem too sure about this himself. Never mind. I fish in my pocket for a piece of paper, coming up with an old receipt. “Here,” I say, having scribbled on it. “This evening. Sit your wife down in front of the computer and I’ll have a word with her. Is that OK with you?”

The man nods.

“Will seven do?”

Again the man nods, and that is that.

Saturday, May 24, 19:00
What I see of the woman is a field of pale blue covering her upper body. It’s a bit like looking at a Mark Rothko. I smile to myself, thinking that it puts us on a level playing field, at least to begin with, since I too have tilted the screen to show only my upper body, clad in a standard white shirt.

“Good evening, Pet,” I say.

“Good evening,” she replies.

The tone of her voice tells me, but it seems politic to ask anyway. “Are you nervous?”

“Yes.” The woman’s voice is so quiet the word folds into its own concluding sibilance.

“I can understand that,” I say.

“Can you?”

That sounds a bit more assertive, but I’m not going to get drawn into a discussion about my ability to empathise. “Tell me, Pet,” I say, “what’s the worst case scenario? What do you fear the most?”

She sighed. “A lot,” she says. “But mainly that somehow things will get out.”

“What happens between us will stay between us,” I say, as soothingly as possible.

It’s as if the woman hasn’t heard. “Or that I’ll feel ashamed and embarrassed.”

I wait a second or two before responding. “Maybe you’re feeling a little ashamed and embarrassed already?”

There’s silence.

I press on. “What’s the best case scenario for you?”

The silence seems interminable. Then the woman’s voice filters through. “What can I say? That I enjoy it, I suppose. But what if I enjoy it too much?”

“Can you experience too much enjoyment?”

Silence, then, “I-I-It just feels so complicated.”

This is an emotional issue that the woman will have to deal with internally. Out loud I say, “Cuck has told you about our conversation this afternoon?”

“He’s told me everything.”

“So you understand that if at any time you feel too uncomfortable to continue, we just break off, and that’s that?”


“So why don’t we just play a little game tomorrow? A fairly innocent game? Just to see how you feel about things. If you don’t want to go on after that, well, no harm done.”

The woman doesn’t answer this, instead she says, “I don’t want you thinking I’m just some slut.”

“How would you like me to think of you?”

There’s a long and extremely pregnant silence.

“I won’t think of you as just a slut,” I said. “But you must understand, Pet, that my interest in you is entirely sexual in nature.”

There’s another prolonged silence before the woman says, “I understand that.” Then, to my surprise, she relents. “This little game you want to play. What does it involve?”

Sunday May 25 09:00
Sunday mornings are great. Sunday mornings when people are still asleep, or just coming to after Saturday night. Towns are quiet, much better for the kinky stuff than the previous night. Especially if you know of places. A bleak stretch of road bordered on both sides by huge brick facades, not quite run down, still in use, but barely, and certainly not on a Sunday morning.

I arrive early, not in the least put out by the wait. Not given the delights I anticipate. I sit in the car, trying not to imagine how things will go, trying not to plan things that might not come off.

They are punctual. At the stroke of nine, a grey car shows up, pulling up on the side of the road a short distance ahead of mine. Cuck gets out on the driver’s side, looking around. There are other cars parked up. I don’t know if he sees me or not, he gives no indication that he does before walking round the car and opening the passenger door for Pet.

It’s the first time I’ve seen her in the flesh. She’s wearing a jacket, though it’s already quite warm, with a red top underneath. A brown skirt stretches to her knees, tan-coloured stockings flowing down from there. Pet looks around too, but not as intently as her husband, as if afraid of seeing me.

Cuck looks up and down the pavement, clearly checking for people. Then he grips his wife’s skirt and lifts it slowly. He says something, and Mrs Cuck grabs the garment. She holds it above her stocking tops and does a 360 degree twirl. It’s very inexpert, but I enjoy the sight.

She lets the skirt drop and the pair of them look slightly lost, looking up and down the street. I pick up my mobile. I’ve already got the number on speed dial. I see the woman start when her phone goes off. She takes it out of her jacket pocket, holds it up to her ear.


“Good morning, Pet. You look gorgeous.”

She looks embarrassed, looking around. “Thank you.” Her husband is looking at her, his eyes glued to her.

“Seeing you like that has given me ideas straight away.”

She looks and sounds tense, nervous. “What kind of ideas?”

“What kind of ideas would you like me to have?”

“I don’t know.”

“What kind of ideas do you think I have?”

“I daren’t think.”

“Don’t worry, Pet, I’m not going to fuck you or make you suck my cock. At least not today.”

I enjoy the look on her face as she registers what I’ve said. “Then what?” she breathes.

“Are you wearing panties?”

“Of course I’m wearing panties. I’m not a slut.”

“I don’t think you are a slut, Pet, but every woman has a slutty side.”

She doesn’t respond to this. Her husband murmurs something I don’t catch.

“Here’s what I want you to do next, Pet. About three minutes’ walk up the road, there’s a little park. I want you to make your way there. Find a bench and sit down. Will you do that, you and Cuck?”

The woman looks uncertain. “Yes.”

“Good. Now give me another twirl.”

Pet looks surprised when the line goes dead. She slips the phone back in her pocket, looks around, then quickly hoists her skirt above her stocking tops and does the full 360 degrees. Her husband looks questioningly at her. She speaks, they set off.

I give them a minute before following. They’ve made it a way, and they’re just tiny figures in front of me. I don’t care, the thought of Pet and Cuck makes me vibrate with excitement as I follow in their footsteps, slowing as I enter the park to locate them. They haven’t gone far. Just a short distance down the first path after the entrance, third bench down. My view of them is from the side, slightly behind when I linger at the entrance. The pair of them converse in short sentences, Pet slightly obscured by her husband, who’s the closest to me. We are not entirely alone. There’s the usual assortment of early birds, crapping dogs and helmeted cyclists. I take out my mobile. I press speed dial.

“Yes,” Pet answers.

“I’ve thought about things,” I say. “And I’ve decided I can’t have you wearing panties. Take them off. Now!” Then I cut the call.

Pet’s hand flies to her mouth. Cuck says something and they converse briefly. Then Mrs Cuck looks around, checking that there’s no-one there. I watch her body move, though obscured by her husband. I see enough to determine that she does indeed remove her panties, handing them to her husband, which amuses me. Then she sinks back and the pair exchange a few words before falling into silence.

I begin to move towards the bench, making sure to walk on the grass, keeping silent. I’m right up next to them, rounding the bench from behind when Cuck finally notices me. He doesn’t speak though, and Pet stares steadfastly straight ahead, even as I sit down and lay my hand on her thigh, the brown of her skirt.

“It’s good to meet you at last, Pet,” I say, my fingers pulling the material up so that I can lay my hand on her stocking top instead, drag a finger across the skin just above it. “You feel as good as you look.”

Pet seems completely tongue-tied. Cuck is glancing to his right. I use my entire hand to rub the naked bit of thigh. “I’m very excited by you, Pet,” I tell her.

“There’s someone coming!” she exclaims.

Indeed there is. “Don’t worry, he won’t notice,” I say. And indeed, if the cyclist sees anything as he whizzes past, he must have superhuman sight.

Having broken her silence, Pet says, “What do you want?”

I give a little squeeze of her thigh. “Isn’t that obvious?” I say. “I want you.”

I sense her breathing increase. “Are you going to touch me?”

“I thought I was touching you,” I said, making sure to trace a path with my fingers along the inside of her thigh as I speak.

“I mean, you know, there…” The woman’s voice is trembling.

“Do you want me to, Pet? Do you want me to touch your pussy?” When the woman doesn’t answer, I say, “What about you, Cuck? Do you think I should touch her pussy?”

The man clears his throat. It still sounds as if he has a frog in it when he says, “I don’t really have much say in the matter, do I?”

The woman’s body stiffens as a delighted squeal is heard. A father with two energetic young children heave into view, carrying a kite. I remove my hand, making sure to pull Pet’s skirt down. “Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea,” I mutter. Then, placing my arm round the woman, who is now as stiff as a board, I say, “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to be good to you. If you continue along this path and exit at the next opportunity, there’s a long hill, and at the bottom of that, there’s a nice little shop I know of. You’ll know which shop I mean. I’m going to give you some money to spend, Pet. But make sure to spend it wisely. They open at 10. Take Cuck with you. Phone me when you’re done. I’m a big fan of black, by the way.”

I feel in my pocket for the cash I’ve taken out the previous day. Making sure the father and children aren’t looking, I quickly pull up the woman’s skirt and deposit the notes inside her stocking top. “Have fun,” I say. “And be sure to call me.”

Sunday May 25 11:00
They take their time, but I don’t mind. Good things come to he who waits.

When my phone does ring, I don’t bother with greetings. “I hope you spent wisely.”

Pet doesn’t respond to that. “What next?” she asks, her voice trembling again.

“Three doors down there’s a café. You deserve a break.”

I ring off, I’m already close. So close that I see the pair enter, but I hold back, giving them time, keeping them on tenterhooks. I know full well that it’s hardly the kind of place they would normally visit. There aren’t too many places like this left. Fact is, it’s a bit rough and tumble. Sometimes I think you could lay someone out on the counter and fuck them and no-one would care. Well, not quite, but it’s not the kind of place where people are unduly concerned, whatever happens.

They’ve found a table in a corner, as far away from the few customers that are there as they can get. I make a conscious effort not to look at them, but I feel their eyes on me as I stand at the counter. I choose to put one table between them and me, but lean back so that I get a good angle. I wait a while, spying the plastic bag and wondering what it contains. Then, I take out my mobile. It has to be a text this time. “I want u 2 touch yrself.”

I feel the excitement as the woman’s phone beeps. When she reads the message, she glances in my direction. She shows Cuck the message, then shakes her head. I send a new text. “Just do it!”

Cuck is looking down at the table. Pet lets her worried expression scan the room. No-one could care less about her. From where I’m sitting I can see how she puts her hand on her lap. Then she slides it slowly down between her thighs, pushing the skirt in with it. It’s not quite what I had in mind, and she doesn’t exactly move her hand a lot, but I enjoy the scene anyway, her obvious nervousness, her discomfit. I don’t care that it’s not the full deal. Good things come to he who has the patience to train his Pet.

I drink my coffee slowly, keeping my eye on her, on her virtually immobile hand clenched between her thighs. Then, when I’m ready, I give a short jerk of the head, indicating the door.

Pet nudges Cuck. They rise. I give it a minute, then follow, catching up with them a short distance down the street. To my surprise, before I have time to speak, the woman says, “Are you disappointed with me?”

Taken aback, I say, “No. I’ll soon have you trained, don’t you worry.” I place my hand on her buttock, guiding her forward. She grows tense.

“Where to now?” Cuck asks.

“Oh, back to the car, I think,” I say.

All the way there I keep touching, Pet, her buttocks. It embarrasses her, I can tell. I sense her relief when we reach their car, even when I tell her, “In the back!” But it’s still relief tempered with nervousness.

I climb in the back with her. She looks at me and I gauge her nervous look. I lay my hand on her thigh. “Don’t worry, Pet,” I say. “I’m not going to make you suck my cock. Not yet.” She tenses. “I just want to see what you’ve bought.”

She opens the plastic bag, bringing the items out one by one. I keep my hand on her thigh, stroking the nylon. They’ve gone the conventional route, everything in black, as per my stated preference; hold-ups, lace knickers and bra, and a surprisingly slinky dress. “Nice,” I say. “You’ll feel a different woman once you get changed into these, Pet.”

“Do you think so?” Pet answers. She sounds as if she isn’t sure; about that, about anything.

I smile, going for reassuring. “Oh I think so,” I say. Then, back to stern. “And to prove it, I want you to go home and change into your new clothes, Pet.” I give her thigh a squeeze. “At eight I’ll be sitting in front of my computer. I’ll be expecting to see you.” She nods, her eyes not quite focused. “As for you, Cuck,” I say, moving my hand away from Pet and gripping the man’s shoulder. “As from now, I don’t want you touching or kissing your wife in any way. And I certainly won’t have you fucking her. Is that clear?”

“As crystal,” the man says. I can almost hear his heart sink.

Sunday May 25 20:00
And there she is, brought into my home in full-screen glory. She looks transformed. A lick of paint, a dash of lipstick, and the black dress that clings to her and isn’t ashamed to show a bit of cleavage.

“Good Evening, Pet. You look stunning,” I say. Is that a slight blush I can see?

“Thank you.”

“Are you nervous?”


“What is there to be nervous about?”

She doesn’t answer.

“So how did you like our little game?”

She waits so long I almost think she’s not going to answer that either. “It was… interesting,” she says, voice faltering.

“Interesting is good.”

She stares straight ahead, waiting, looking none too sure that interesting really is good. I decide there’s no point in beating about the bush, that the best thing to do is to give her a little scare.

“One thing, though, Pet.”

“Yes?” she whispers.

“Next time I tell you to touch yourself, I expect you to do it properly, fingers against pussy. Is that clear?”

She blinks, and for a moment I think she’s going to fall off the chair. She collects herself. “Yes,” she breathes.

“Yes, what?”

She blinks again. “What?”

I smile inside. “When I tell you to touch yourself, what will you do?”

Once again she looks as if she’s going faint. “I’ll-I’ll…”

“Spit it out, Pet. You won’t be struck by lightning.”

She takes a deep breath. “I’ll-I’ll… touch my… pussy properly.”

“Excellent!” I pause, watching her as she stares into the camera in nervous anticipation. “Now stand up!”

She rises, her head disappearing over the top of the screen, but now showing half her torso and enough of her legs to show where the dress ends.

“Give me a twirl.”

She turns. It’s less of a twirl than an awkward stumble, but that doesn’t matter.

“Stunning,” I say. “Simply stunning.” When she remains standing I say, “You can sit down again.”

Her face and her cleavage come back into view. Again she stares, waiting for me to take the initiative.

“You look sensational, Pet,” I say. “I’m very aroused by you. I think we’re going to have a lot of fun, you and I.”

She blushes, seeming to forget herself. “What f-f-f…?”

“What kind of fun do you think?”

She averts her eyes. “I know what kind of fun,” she whispers. It sounds like fun is the furthest thing from her mind.

“You know, Pet,” I say. “You look so good in that outfit, you’re going to wear it lots of times. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

This seems to calm her. “Yes.”

She does look good in it, so much so that it seems almost criminal to do what I’m about to do. “Is Cuck there?”

“Yes,” Pet answers. “He’s here.”

“Good!” I’m secretly pleased that they’ve gone for the model of dress they have. It makes things easier. “I want him to slide those straps off your shoulders so that I can get a good look at your upper body without the dress.”

Pet tenses. Cuck takes his time, but eventually part of his body appears behind his wife, his hands going to her shoulders, lingering a little too long as he slides the straps to the sides, the dress falling, exposing his wife’s brassiered boobs.

“Very nice,” I say.

“Thank you,” Pet blushes.

I wait, letting my eyes flit from the black lace to her eyes, enjoying her uncertainty. Then I say, “Mmmm, I’m definitely enjoying this view. If you only knew what’s going through my mind, Pet. But then you’ll find out soon enough.”

I sense a tremble in her. “I can imagine.”

“Can you? What are you imagining?”

She doesn’t answer that.

“Pet, Pet, so bashful. Never mind, we’ll get that out of your system sooner or later.”

She just stares, nervous, uncertain.

It’s time to move on. “Cuck! Take her bra off so I can see her tits!”

Now the woman reacts, Cuck hovering behind her. “You’re not sort of… recording this, are you? I don’t want… you know, to be on the Internet.”

“No, no, no! There’s no question of that.”

“How can I be sure?”

She can’t, of course, whatever I say. “Because I don’t want to share you with anyone, Pet. I want you all to myself.”

She thinks about this, but my answer seems to have satisfied Cuck, who fiddles behind her. Pet’s bra comes off, her breasts exposed to my rakish eyes.

“Oh my!” I say. “Pet, Pet, you really are the woman of every man’s dreams, aren’t you?”

She looks down. “I don’t know about that.”

I wait a few seconds. “Come on, Pet, give us a jiggle.”

The woman looks taken aback, then she shifts uncomfortably in the chair, the movement so minute that her breasts hardly move, but I’m enjoying the show anyway.

“Why don’t you tease your nipples a bit, Pet? I know I’d like to tease them, with my fingers and my tongue.”

The woman blushes, but her hands do come into focus, fingertips sliding uncertainly over the dark spread on her hillocks.

“Oooh, Pet! I think I spy swelling.”

This makes her go a little redder, but her fingertips continue to move.

“Oh, Pet! You look so good! I can’t wait until I’m with you so I can suck on your nipples. I’m very aroused! Are you aroused, Pet?”

The woman’s fingers spread out, her hands covering her breasts, squeezing lightly. “I feel very naughty,” she admits, averting her eyes.

“That’s because you are naughty, Pet. Very naughty. Just the way I like it. Would you like to get naughtier still, Pet?”

She doesn’t reply, not at first, then says softly, “I don’t know.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter, because it’ll happen anyway. Stand up!”

Again her head disappears over the top of the screen. The dress is tight enough to remain where Cuck has rolled it down to her stomach, but conceals everything below.

“Cuck! Get that dress off her!”

The middle of Pet’s husband comes into view again. He grabs the garment, pulling it upwards. As he does so, I’m afforded a glorious view of stocking tops and lace knickers.

“Oh my!” I say again. “I can tell that I’m just not going to be able to get enough of you, Pet. Sit down!”

Her face returns to the screen along with her upper body. Her hands are planted on top of her boobs.

“Move your hands! Let me see your tits!”

Pet’s eyes flit everywhere as she allows me to see her naked bosom.

“What’s the matter?”

She sucks on her bottom lip. “I feel ashamed,” she says finally.

This is a barrier that needs to be forced. “Because you feel aroused?” I ask.

She nods. “Arousal is nothing to feel ashamed of,” I say. “Perhaps you’re ashamed of what you want me to do to you.”

Pet blushes. “No…” she says, but she doesn’t sound too convincing.

“Are you wondering what it would feel like to have me sucking on your tits, Pet?”

Her lips part and she looks as if she’s been caught with her fingers in the cookie jar. She nods.

“Tell me, Pet, tell me what you’d like.”

She looks down. “I think… it might be quite nice if you... were to… play with my breasts.”

I smile. “Say it, Pet. Say that you want me to suck on your tits.”

She goes bright red. “I want you to…” her nipples are hardening even as she speaks. “I want you to suck on my tits.”

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

She shakes her head, looking far from convinced.

“Now stand up again!”

She rises, no doubt relieved not to have to make eye contact.

“Cuck! Get those knickers off her, so that I can see her pussy!”

Her husband really is an obedient soul, almost more obedient than she is. It doesn’t take him long to wrestle the new, lace panties to the floor.

“I’ve been longing to get a good look at you, Pet. And I’m not disappointed.”

“Thank you,” her voice trembles.

“There’s nothing I don’t want to do with that body of yours, Pet. How do you feel about that?”


“Do you know what the best cure for nerves is?”


“Touching yourself.”


“Do you remember what I said earlier, Pet? When I ask you to touch yourself, what do I want you to do?”

She takes an age to answer. “To put… to put…” Her voice has gone up an octave. “To put my fingers against my pussy.”

“Good girl!” I pause. “Do it now. Touch yourself.”

Her hand rests just below her stomach as she stands with legs very slightly parted. Fingers slide downwards, barely scraping Pet’s naked pubes.

“Come on, Pet, you can do better than that.”

I can hear her breathing, then she squeaks. “What is it you want?”

“What do you think I want?”

“I don’t like to say.”

I decide not to push it. “Why don’t you just ease that finger in between those enticing petals of yours?”

Pet doesn’t speak, but her finger moves, her hand moves. She does exactly as I say, the finger disappearing from view between the labia that are only partially visible to me.

“Good girl! Now tell me, how does that feel?”

She takes her time. “Naughty.”

Her hand’s still again. “Move your finger, Pet, tease yourself the way you imagine I might tease you.”

She’s breathing heavily. Her finger moves, not a lot, just enough so that I can see that she is indeed teasing herself.

“How does that feel, Pet?”

Again she takes her time. “Nice,” she says bashfully.

“Naughty and nice; well that’s a good start. Anything else?”

Her finger moves gently. There’s breathing, then her uncertain voice. “It feels… a bit… a bit damp.”

I smile. “Excellent!” I wait a little, watching Pet’s minute movements. “Right, I think it’s time we got serious,” I say. “But not tonight.”

“What…?” Her finger stops moving.

“Same time, same place tomorrow evening, Pet. I want you dressed, or undressed just as you are now.”

“I understand,” she whispers.

“And Cuck! Remember; no kissing, no touching, no fucking! Your wife’s my plaything now, and I don’t let anybody else touch my toys unless I say so.”

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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