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The Wynford Wives

"A young wife begins to suspect that something is frighteningly wrong in her new idyllic neighborhood"

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I

The young housewife, somewhere in her mid-thirties but still radiating with youth and vitality, twinkled her eyes at Abbey and said, “Welcome to Wynford! You’re really going to love it here! It’s a lovely town with lovely neighbours! You couldn’t have made a better choice!”

Abbey couldn’t help but feel charmed by her effervescence.

“That’s wonderful to hear, Caity. Can I make you a coffee?”

“I would love some!” She beamed.

Abbey welcomed her new neighbour into her home. She led her guest through the uproar of boxes and packing peanuts, apologising for the mess. They arrived in the kitchen, and Abbey poured a couple of steaming hot mugs. Thanking her brightly, Caity inquired how she and her husband had come to live in their quiet suburb of Wynford.

“Well,” Abbey began, “Robert was offered a job closer to here than our place in the city, and we decided the commute would just be too much. He has to work long shifts, and we hardly see enough of each other as it is.”

“What about you? Moving didn’t affect your career?”

“Oh no. I’m a freelance illustrator, so I can set up my studio here and be totally fine. What about you? Tell me about yourself.”

As the young mother talked, her story touched Abbey’s heart. Caity had been widowed only last year. She remained in her home for the sake of her son Thomas, she said. She wanted to give him some kind of stability, she was financially well-off, and their neighbourhood really was wonderful. As she spoke sadly of her dreams of a large family and a litter of children, Abbey felt a pang of sympathy. She had no children of her own, but she saw in Caity a deep well of loss and lonesomeness.

Caity proved surprisingly easy to talk to, with a sweet laugh and a wicked sense of humour. With shining black hair and disarmingly green eyes, she was an easy person to be around. Abbey warmed to her immediately. Soon they were chatting like sisters. A morning in which she originally planned to continue setting up her studio evaporated away whilst the two women talked. Caity started when she looked at her phone.

“Holy cow, look at the time! I’ll have to go pick up Tommy in a minute!”

She clasped Abbey’s hand for a moment, thanked her, and left. Abbey smiled as she watched her walk down the drive, the late summer sun dappling her skin. Fears she had held of being trapped and alone, so far away from her friends in this new and unfamiliar place, were already slipping away. How wonderful to have such a lovely neighbour! She reflected.

That evening she happily greeted Robert when he arrived home. He smiled and brushed her tussled ginger locks.

“You’re in a good mood, dear. Your day went well, I hope?”

Thinking of her new acquaintance, she looked up at the man she loved. She took his chin in her hand and kissed him. “Yes. I think life might not be so bad here, after all.”

 

II

 

The couple began to ease into their new routine. Robert’s days were often long, but he found his job both satisfying and challenging. Abbey enjoyed listening to him talk of the engineering projects he had found himself immersed in.

The commissions came in from her agent, steadily but sporadically. She could spend days frantically working late into the night to meet a deadline and then sit for a fortnight or more without anything to do except absent-mindedly doodle on her sketch-pads.

And so the days went. The final days of Summer turned into the reds and golds of Autumn. Abbey would sit in her studio and be able to see Caity take her son to school in the mornings and return soon after. She would sometimes see her exercising in athletic gear. She wondered how she filled her hours when she wasn’t jogging. Whenever she had the time, she would make herself available for afternoon drinks and conversations.

They could talk at ease for hours. Abbey had found herself surprised at how swiftly their bond had formed; she had always been a more introverted person. Perhaps it was this new place that was changing her, she considered. For her part, Caity also proclaimed her happiness. They stood chatting on the grass in the pleasant sunlight, as Caity stretched her legs in preparation for her run.

“So, Abs, you free to come round to mine tomorrow?”

“I’d love to.”

“Great. You know I’m free once I drop off Tommy, so I’ll see you when I see you!”

Abbey watched her run off along the road with her black ponytail bobbing, a little jealous of her slim body and firm buttocks. She wondered if she would be able to look so good after bearing a child. Caity had a slim, athletic build that really suited her tall frame. Abbey was sure she could have any man she wanted. Perhaps it was too soon after her husband’s death, she considered. She decided not to pursue the subject though, thinking that the pain may still be too raw. She would let Caity talk about it in her own time.

She found herself eagerly looking forward to her next date with her neighbour. She was certain she was doing her good, too. She worried about her being left alone for most of the day, in that vast, empty house. On the outside however, Caity seemed perpetually upbeat and cheerful. She was devoted to her son, and seemed to be content in her normal, quiet routine. A peculiar thing was to happen that very next day, however, that would send a shiver of curiosity down Abbey’s spine.

Over a pasta lunch and a discussion of the local news, they were unexpectedly interrupted by the melody of Caity’s phone.

“Sorry Abs,” She said, taking off from the couch to pick up her mobile. “I’d better just see who this is.”

“Hello?” Caity listened to the caller. She remained silent, the voice on the other line seemingly doing all the talking. After a moment Caity simply said, “Yes.” and swiped her phone off.

“I’m sorry, Abbey, but I have to go do something now. Excuse me.” There was an unusual, misty look in her eyes.

“Oh, okay. I’ll walk you out.” Caity remained mute as Abbey gathered her jacket and phone. Outside, she turned to say goodbye only to see that Caity had already walked away. Her brow furrowed as she observed her friend walk across the street. She opened the gate to the white house and disappeared inside. Abbey puzzled.

It wasn’t that unusual or remarkable, at first, until the exact same thing happened a couple of days later. This time Abbey was in the middle of showing Caity her latest commission, when her mobile chimed once more. She listened in silence, replied in a monotone, and immediately gave the same excuse as before, down to the precise turn of phrase. Then it happened a third time, and then a fourth. Caity would offer no further explanation, and the following day she would act as though nothing unusual had happened.

Abbey began taking mental notes. Caity would be drawn to the white house across the street, and remain there for hours, sometimes only leaving precisely at the time she needed to fetch her son from school. Looking out from her studio window, she would begin to notice that Caity would frequently return later in the evenings most nights, too. If she actually went home on those nights, it was after Abbey herself had retired to bed.

A lascivious part of her brain imagined her friend to be having an affair with the owner of the white house. That would explain the secrecy. But an affair that was conducted at every hour of the day, with Caity seemingly at his beck and call? She would run it over in her mind, talking about the mystery with Robert over dinner.

“You know, I’m sure I’ve not met the people who live across the way,” He said. “But you would know better than I the particulars of our neighbours.”

Every time they were together now, Abbey would sit in gloomy expectation of that familiar phone call. One morning as they were chatting, Abbey felt her resolve diminishing. She just had to find out what was going on.

“Caity, what is going on with you and these calls? Why are you leaving every day to visit one of our neighbours?”

Caity blinked for a moment and smiled, as though a happy memory had wormed its way into her mind.

“I’m visiting my friend, Sarah.” She explained. Abbey hadn’t been sure of what to expect, but she found such a simple and anodyne explanation both disappointing, and a little wounding. She suddenly felt left out.

“Sarah? I don’t know her. Have you two been friends long?”

“Oh, not long.”

“But you go over to her house whenever she wants you to?”

“Yes, I enjoy being with her. She makes me feel so good.” That seemed a strange way to term a friendship, thought Abbey, but she decided to persist.

“Well, can I meet her?”

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask!” Caity clapped her hands. “I’d adore it if you came and met her.”

The day's phone call came as expected, and Caity repeated her little ritual. Instead of being abandoned on the street this time, Abbey followed her friend across the street. Once through the gate, they walked in single file up the steps to a door hidden beneath an ornate portico. Surprisingly, Caity did not have to ring the doorbell. Instead, she fished out a key and unlocked the door herself! Every step was a new confusing development for Abbey, even as Caity entered the house, beckoning her to follow her inside. She heard the door gently close and softly lock behind her.

With trepidation, Abbey walked further into the house. She felt uncomfortable and alien in someone’s home without first meeting them. She seemed an intruder. She saw warm, dark shades of paint on the walls, hints of expensive furnishings, tasteful decorations. She wondered where Sarah was.

Beside her, Caity pulled her tank-top off her shoulders. Abbey gasped when she then unclasped her bra and let it drop to the floor. For a second she was shocked by the sight of her friend’s naked breasts before her. Before she could even speak, Caity had already bent down to slip off her jeans, and was swiftly fingering off her pumps. In an instant she was completely naked. Abbey could only stutter in confusion. Her friend was utterly unselfconscious about her nudity. She blinked and tried not to let herself stare at her beautiful, pale skin, and her lean and subtle muscles. In her embarrassment she struggled to speak, only able to watch helplessly as Caity retrieved a pair of jet black stiletto heels and slipped them on. They made her even more statuesque, and only accentuated her nudity. Without a word, she walked sensuously into the living room of the house. Abbey was inexorably drawn to follow.

“Hello. Welcome.” A voice of golden brown said. Abbey started, remembering where they were.

“Come on in,” said the voice. Abbey could see it belonged to a woman seated in a comfortable chair near the fireplace. She seemed of an age Abbey couldn’t place, and yet she had startlingly attractive features, framed by dark red hair, so very different from the mild ginger of Abbey’s own curls. The woman smiled and stood up as Caity reached her. She stroked the her bare shoulder. At full height Abbey could see this woman still towered over Caity even in her high heels. She felt like a mouse in comparison. Caity’s voice penetrated her thoughts.

“Abbey, I’d like you to meet my Mistress, Sarah.”

“Mistress?” She asked, confounded.

“Yes,” said Sarah, seemingly taking over from Caity. “Here in my home, Caity knows to address me in the way she feels most comfortable.” Still stroking Caity’s shoulder with one hand, she lifted her other as though she going to allow Abbey to kiss it. She looked keenly at her.

“You must be Abbey. Caity has told me all about you. I’m so happy you two have become friends.”

Abbey found herself shaking Sarah’s outstretched hand, even as her gaze was held fast by the older woman. She felt somehow pierced, but Sarah’s smile remained one of pleasant welcome.

This was crazy. Abbey had never felt so awkward in her entire life. As she watched Sarah gently stoke the arm of her naked friend, she choked out an excuse about having an errand to run as she backed away. Caity seemed oblivious to her babbling, whilst Sarah looked down on her, bemused.

She reached the door and struggled with the lock, but even as she managed to open it, she felt a straining compulsion to look back. Over her shoulder she saw that Caity was now kneeling before Sarah. The tall redhead had started petting her hair. She was still watching Abbey keenly. The door slammed shut. Abbey fled back to her own home.

She was quiet and distant over dinner that night, and dismissed Robert’s questions with monosyllabic replies. She had been shaken by her encounter with her mysterious neighbour. It didn’t matter to her one that Caity was gay and had chosen to keep it a secret from her. It was the brazen, unthinking way she had simply undressed in front of her and submissively knelt before this woman. Why had she thought it necessary for Abbey to witness it?

That night she lay next to her husband and tried in vain to stop thinking of what she had witnessed; Caity’s beautifully exposed form, kneeling before Sarah.

 

III

 

Abbey had puzzled with herself as to whether she should bring up that day’s events with her friend. After all, her sex life was her own concern. If she didn’t want to talk about it, especially with someone she had only known a few short weeks, then that was understandable. It was for that reason she’d decided not to tell Robert about the crazy scene she’d walked in on. At least not yet, anyway. On the other hand, Abbey couldn’t deny to herself that she was burning with curiosity.

In any case, Abbey found herself snowed under, with several commissions landing in her inbox all at once. All her free time was consumed as she laboured on her painting. When Caity called round, she seemed perfectly content, and wasn’t upset at all when Abbey apologised and explained that she didn’t have the time.

Some time had passed before the two women were able to meet for lunch at Abbey’s. They chatted as freely as ever, and the conversation meandered pleasurably, but Abbey simply couldn’t resist. She had to probe her friend for more details of her relationship with Sarah.

“Caity, can we talk about what happened the other day?”

“What do you mean, Abs?” She replied, breezily.

“Um, you know, when we went to Sarah’s house?”

“Oh, did you come with me?” Caits had such an innocent look on her face, Abbey seriously considered that she might have genuinely forgotten what Abbey had witnessed.

“Yes, I came with you! You stripped naked and got down on your knees for that woman!”

“I did what? What the hell are you talking about?” laughed Caity. This was insane, Abbey thought. What game was Caity playing? She could only persist.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You took me over to Sarah’s house, remember? And when we were inside, you took off your clothes. You got down on your knees and called her your Mistress!”

“My Mistress?”

“Yes! You called her Mistress Sarah!”

Caity’s green eyes searched for a moment, as though she was struggling to remember an important memory. But then, something else passed before her eyes. To her horror, Abbey suddenly realised that she recognised the neutral blankness that was now clouding over her friend’s vision. Softly, Caity exhaled a long, contented breath. She sank back into the sofa.

“Mistress Sarah ...” she intoned, with a loving sigh. She began murmuring words under her breath. It was a low moan that Abbey could hardly decipher. She had to lean in close to her face to make out what she was saying. She almost shook with fright when she finally made them out.

“My mind belongs to Mistress Sarah. My body belongs to Mistress Sarah. My cunt is for Mistress Sarah and her alone.”

Caity’s voice had settled into a dreamy monotone as she chanted. She was in blissful stupor. She didn’t even seem to realise that her hand had drifted across her thigh and between her legs.

Abbey sat on the very edge of of her sofa, transfixed. She listened intently for a long, long time. It was utterly captivating, watching her friend lose herself in some sort of self-induced trance.

“My mind belongs to Mistress Sarah. My body belongs to Mistress Sarah. My cunt is for Mistress Sarah and her alone.”

She was rubbing herself through her leggings, insistently pressing her fingers into her lap in time to her words. There was a deliberative action to her movements, a leashed energy, as though she wasn’t able to move any faster.

“My mind belongs to Mistress Sarah. My body belongs to Mistress Sarah. My cunt is for Mistress Sarah and her alone.”

Abbey blinked her eyes open. Her hand jolted as she suddenly realised how wrong this felt. She had to stop her friend from spinning any further out of control.

“Caity! CAITY! Stop it! LISTEN to me!” Abbey furiously grabbed at her friend. With a dizzy nod of her head she seemed to regain a sense of where she was. Reluctantly, she released her hand from its absorbing occupation. She looked at Abbey strangely.

“What is wrong with you?” Abbey yelled, feeling as though her grip on reality was slipping. “Don’t you see what she’s doing to you? She’s brainwashing you! This is totally crazy!”

Before Caity could respond, a familiar melody chimed from her phone. Abbey felt sick.

“Sorry Abs, I’d better just see who this is.”

Abbey tried to stop her, but Caity had already accepted the call.

“Hello?” Caity said again. She was silent as she listened. Abbey couldn’t believe it. Her eyes seemed to be pulsing out of her skull as she witnessed this ritual playing itself out again, with her helpless to intervene. Caity once again mumbled her consent and put her phone down. And in that lazy monotone she turned to Abbey once more.

“I’m sorry, Abbey, but I have to go do something now. Excuse me.”

Caity mechanically gathered up her bag and phone, and drifted out of the room. Distraught, Abbey peered out her window, watching her friend being drawn once more to the house across the street. She wanted to stop her. She wanted to follow her. But she was too scared.

 

IV

 

Days passed. A new commission arrived that tied Abbey up for days physically, but her mind was never far removed from the memory of what she had witnessed. She resolved to find out more about this strange domination Sarah seemed to wield over Caity, and whether or not she could break it. The routine of the day carried itself out, and when Abbey was certain that Caity was back at home and safely alone, she decided to make her move. Taking a deep breath, she rapped her knuckles on her door.

Caity appeared wearing a white bathrobe. Abbey’s brow furrowed.

“Are you – are feeling okay, Caits?”

“Yes, I’m wonderful. Please, I really want you to come in.” Caity pulled her friend into her home. Something was dangerously strange in here, Abbey worried. The curtains were drawn. There was a close, hushed atmosphere of anticipation that she didn’t think was only in her own mind.

“Caits, I really need to talk to you about what happened --” Abbey’s rehearsed speech died on her lips as her friend turned to her. She had pulled the bathrobe down from her shoulders, and let it fall to around her ankles. Taking a step over it, she came closer to Abbey.

Caity was wearing a sheer bodice, trimmed with black lace. Her legs were encased in thin black stockings held up by a flimsy lace garter. Apart from that, she was entirely naked. Abbey was frozen in shock. She tried to say something. Nothing came out. She was unable to look away from Caity’s body. She took another step forward until the two women were nearly touching.

She cupped her breasts and pushed them level with Abbey’s. Leaning into her until their stomachs touched, she gently rubbed her nipples against the fabric of Abbey’s t-shirt. Their faces were so close she could look nowhere else but into Caity’s piercing, searching green eyes. She could feel the friction between the lingerie and the cotton of her t-shirt. She felt the heat of her friends body against hers. Panic and embarrassment and heat rose up her spine. They stood like this for several minutes, Caity intently concentrating on maintaining the erotic connection she felt, Abbey simply frozen in confusion. At last, Caity spoke, her colour rising.

“Won’t you … love me, Abbey?”

Her voice popped the awful tension within the room. Shocked and trembling, Abbey fell backwards. Unable to pry her eyes away from the intense heat in her friend’s eyes, she forced her feet to step backwards, one at a time.

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Finally she felt the hard reality of the wall touching her back. She seemed to snap back into sensibility. Without a word, she ran from the house.

Safely behind her door her breath came in ragged gasps. Her mind raced, overwhelmed by the bizarre moment she had shared with her neighbour. She felt charged with electricity. She tried not to think about the heat inside that room, or the libidinal look she feared Caity might have perceived in her own eyes.

 

V

 

“Everything all right, flower?” Asked her husband across the dining table.

“What? Oh – Yes. Yes. Everything is fine.” Replied Abbey. Her dinner lay cooling and untouched before her. She had been glancing out of the window relentlessly, searching for an indication of activity behind the windows of Sarah’s home.

Her heart had been pounding in her ears all evening as she struggled to process what had happened in the gloom of Caity’s living room that afternoon. She had watched, horrified, as Caity had once again transported herself across the road, not long after she herself had run home. And now she was transfixed, waiting to see what would happen, unsure even of what she could possibly do. Robert was speaking of his day to her. She nodded half-heartedly in his direction.

At last, deep into the evening, she perceived the opening of Sarah’s door. In the fading light she could make out Caity returning to her own house. Suddenly Abbey knew what she had to do. She sprung to her feet and started towards the hall.

“What’s the matter, Abs?” Robert looked up from the television.

“Yes, uh, Caity left her phone here today. I’ll need to return it to her. Won’t be a minute.”

She trotted across the street and knocked. What she would say or do when it opened, she wasn’t even sure. But she knew in her heart that Caity’s behaviour that afternoon had had some direction, some design behind it. And she felt a prickling fear that design had come from Sarah, the one who demanded to be called Mistress and forced her friend to repeat her commands as though she was her puppet. And she needed to know why.

Sarah greeted her warmly and invited Abbey inside. Her living room was warmly lit by several candles, and the smell of jasmine incense hung in the air. There was another scent too, something secret and yet familiar that Abbey couldn’t, or didn’t want to place. Her host wore a black, figure-hugging dress that accentuated her legs.

Sarah beckoned Abbey to sit down next to her on her chaise lounge. Clenching her teeth, unsure of how to tease out her thoughts into sentences, she tried to compose herself as she looked at her host. For her part, Sarah seemed content to let her be the first to speak. She crossed her long legs and leaned back into the couch, gazing into Abbey’s eyes.

“Sarah, I have to know what’s going on between you and my friend. I need to know why Caity behaves the way she does around you. She repeats phrases she forgets and you gave them to her. She thinks she belongs to you.”

“It’s really very simple, Abbey. Caity was lost and unhappy after her husband died. She needed some direction in her life, and I gave it to her. And once I found out how much she enjoys being submissive, I didn’t have much choice other than satisfy those needs as well. She is in touch with all her sexual desires now, and I fulfil them for her. It turns her on.”

Abbey shivered as she asked her next question.

“Did … did you tell her to seduce me today?”

“What? Did she really do that? No! Why would I ever tell her to do that? Although, I have lowered her inhibitions quite a lot. She obviously has a thing for you. Still, she knows she should have asked for my permission. I shall have to correct her for that.”

“Permission? Correct her? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Come on, honey. Are you telling me you’ve never heard of a Domme-sub relationship? Are you really that vanilla? What sex must be like for you, I despair.”

Abbey’s cheeks flushed at the insinuation. She didn’t like this woman probing into her private thoughts, even teasingly. It scared her.

“Of course I know about fetishes like that! But you’ve forced Caity to talk like a robot! To … to have feelings for me? What did you do to her?”

Sarah took a deep breath. “Do you know what a mantra is, Abbey?”

“Yes, of course I do.”

“Well, let me explain it to you so I know you understand. It actually contains two separate words: ‘man’, which means mind, and ‘tra’ which means deliverance. A mantra is designed to be spoken aloud, so the vibrations will echo through your mind, delivering your mind itself from all cares and worries, allowing you to truly understand the power of the words you repeat. Chanting it over and over only reinforces that power.”

“All words have meaning, Abbey, and it’s their meaning that gives them their power. I give people words that take power away from them and hand it to me.”

“People? You’ve done … this … to other people too? Abbey stared at Sarah.

She ignored the question. As if to return the conversation back on track, she gracefully opened her palms and continued.

“Now, it’s not simply a case of ordering someone to repeat a mantra and expecting them to do as you tell them. I had to place something more innocent into Caity’s mind first, a seed that would grow first into a need and then into an uncontrollable desire.”

Abbey shifted her position, trying to fully understand what Sarah was telling her. Assured that she had the younger woman’s attention, Sarah continued.

“As I said, words have meaning, and power. But I learned long ago that certain words, used correctly, have the ability to control. Do you know what a ‘brainworm’ is?”

Abbey nodded in assent. “It’s … it’s like when a song gets stuck in your head.”

“Exactly. I know how to create a brainworm of words for your mind. I have the power to implant words that will unlock parts of your subconscious you try to keep hidden and secret. Now, I don’t have the power to actually dictate what thoughts those words will unlock. The desires and urges you will feel building up inside will be yours alone. In Caity’s case, it was a deep rooted fetish for sexual submission and emotional devotion to a Mistress. Me.” She licked her lips.

“She will do anything asked for her. I make her keep herself fit and healthy. She waxes daily because I like her that way. She wears whatever I tell her to wear. Which most of the time, is nothing except heels. She begged me to give her those mantras. She wanted to go into a deeper, more devoted state of submission for me. She chants them whenever she feels the urge to submit. They turn her on. It also turns her on to give up all control of her orgasms to me.”

Abbey stared at her, her cheeks flushing red with embarrassment. Sarah didn’t appear to have any inhibitions. She was enjoying telling Abbey this, and so decided to pour on the most lascivious details, pushing as many buttons as she could.

“She makes every hole available to me at all times. She’ll give herself to whomever I decide. She will happily kneel and kiss my feet until I grow bored and send her home, still desperate and needy. She lies in bed at night, frigging herself to my image in her minds eye, forever on edge unless I give her permission. It’s all she ever wanted. To be used like a slut.”

Abbey failed to hold back a shudder.

“All she required to embrace that side of herself was a tiny little push. And I gave it to her, just with a simple string of words that might sound like nonsense at first. But they will wriggle into your mind and stay there. They will grow until they push out every other thought from your mind, leaving only your most intimate, secret wants and desires.”

With that, Sarah loomed ever closed to Abbey, almost enveloping her entirely. Abbey shrank back in confusion. She leaned down so she could look the frightened woman directly in the eyes. With meaning in her voice, she said, “Would you like to hear some of those words, Abbey?”

Abbey sat frozen. Her heart was pounding out of her chest. She couldn’t articulate a response. She couldn’t force herself to move, even when Sarah leaned in even further and brushed her lips against her ear. She tensed and waited for whatever would come next. Sarah’s whisper felt like thunder in her mind.

“Burning … Red … Yellow … Apples.”

Abbey bolted. She didn’t feel safe until she was behind her own locked door, her mind spinning and her heart racing.

 

VI

 

Burning. Red. Yellow. Apples. How could four words have any effect over her? Abbey’s mind couldn’t pick it apart. Had Sarah said something similar to Caity? Is that how she had fallen into helpless servitude? Sarah had told her those words had control over her but she refused to believe it. Burning. Red. Yellow. Apples. Four words she could banish from her mind without any effort. Four words that were nonsense on their own. If it was a puzzle designed to confuse her, she decided, she would not let Sarah defeat her. She would escape. Burning. Red. Yellow. Apples. She turned over onto her other side, trying to calm her mind enough to sleep.

She blinked her eyes open. It was some dark, small hour. She was damp with perspiration. In her mind were four words. Burning. Red. Yellow. Apples. She could feel a growing need in her breasts, her sensitive nipples. Burning. She wanted to touch herself, but tried to force her hands away from her chest. Red. They traced their way down to her navel instead. Yellow. She turned over and looked at the naked body of her husband. Apples. She needed something, desperately. But somehow it felt like she would be giving in. To what? What was in her mind that she could no longer reach? Burning. A spike of heat ripped down her body into her slit. Red. She wanted to but she couldn’t. She had to do something. Yellow. She pulled the duvet over her head and wriggled her body down the bed. Apples. She could feel the heat of Robert’s body against her skin. She smelled him. Burning. Her mouth filled with saliva. Red. She took him into her mouth.

Yellow. If she could suck every last drop from him, if she could satisfy him, somehow it might relieve her of the ache between her thighs. Apples. She bobbed her head faster, trying to devote all her concentration on her task, trying to push out every other thought from her mind. Burning. Red. She felt his manhood pulse on her tongue as he grunted and pushed further into her mouth. Yellow Apples. She tasted his hot seed in her mouth and eagerly tried to swallow it all. The triumph for giving her husband such pleasure was almost enough to drive conscious thought from Abbey’s head. Burning. She rolled away from him. Red. To her dismay, the pounding heat in her pussy had not abated.

 

VII

 

Three long, terrible days passed. Three torrid nights in which Abbey found no escape from those awful words. The terror invaded her dreams. They invaded her consciousness, but shutting them out only allowed darker, more disturbing thoughts to enter. What was worse, though, was the awful eroticism she felt when she heard those words. Those words would reveal hidden desires, Sarah had told her. And now she was terrified of her own, uncontrollable craving.

Robert was bewildered by his wife’s sudden ardour. Every night he would awake to discover his wife’s lips suckling insistently on his rod. She was relentless, manically draining him as quickly as she could. He tried to reciprocate, but every time she would pull away from his grasp. She couldn’t even tell herself why. Their bedroom was filled with the scent of her arousal, but she wouldn’t even let him remove her knickers. When he tried to talk to her, she would press her lips against his, slipping her hand under the waistband of his shorts. His questions faltered as she tugged him hard once more, and her head moved to his thighs. With her mouth full she couldn’t say aloud those words that commanded her. She tried to devote herself to his lust to ignore her own.

The morning of the fourth day arrived. Abbey was alone with her thoughts, or rather that set of words that now obliterated everything else except for the fever between her legs. Those awful four words, telling her things, whetting her appetite, but denying her release. She sat in her studio before a blank canvas. Images of the past few weeks rattled around her brain. The deadline for her latest commission had come and gone, utterly forgotten. Instead, she stared intently out the window.

The words had worked precisely as Sarah had told her they would. It had taken time, but her resistance had finally been worn away to nothing. There was a heavy feeling of inevitability inside her belly. She had strived against it and been defeated. She knew what she needed to do. She watched as Caity’s car returned from the school run. After a minute of listening to the thumping of her heart, Abbey stood up.

She was visibly shaking by the time Caity opened her door, and her tremors only worsened as she allowed herself to be led inside. Her host was as placid as ever. She seemed to have been patiently waiting for this very moment. She was fresh and naturally made up, simply dressed this time, wearing a simple grey t-shirt and yoga tights. Abbey could only imagine how she herself looked. Her hair was mess, she hadn’t brushed it in days, and she wasn’t even sure when she had last changed her clothes. In the still of the living room, the two women stared at each other.

Abbey drank in the sight of her friend, realising how gorgeous and sexy she truly was. Her eyes followed the lines of her muscular legs, the taut swell of her stomach, the numbing sight of her breasts straining against the fabric of the t-shirt. She was perfection. Abbey felt her own breathing become gasping and ragged as she stared. I need this so much, she wanted to say. I want to love you so much. Her voiced died before the words could coagulate.

The silence between them loomed. Abbey felt she would collapse if the tension in the room got any worse. She knew what she wanted to do. She had been seeing it in her mind’s eye for the past three nights. Somewhere inside, though, a paroxysm of doubt and fear still held her back. The two forces warred inside her, forcing her into a trembling sweat.

Caity parted her delicate lips and smiled at her, a gesture of permission. Suddenly Abbey’s inhibitions fell apart. The dam inside her burst into a gush of emotion. Violently she clasped Caity’s head in her hands and pulled her close. Their lips mashed together. Abbey felt the explosion in her nerves. She was overwhelmed. She pushed her body onto her friend, eager to feel her skin against her own. Her tongue thrust into Caity’s mouth, searching, feeling, tasting. For long minutes they writhed in each others arms, Abbey simply allowing lust to wash over her at last. She pulled her head back. She had to see Caity naked again.

As if reading her mind, Caity yanked her t-shirt up over her shoulders and threw it away. Abbey stood transfixed. She drank in her perfect skin for a moment before feeling her urges forcing her to move once more. She leaned in and sucked a nipple into her mouth, tonguing at the hardening tip. She moved hungrily to the other. She rained hot, urgent kisses onto Caity’s cleavage, her belly, her navel, falling down to her knees to do so. She tugged down the sides of her yoga pants, desperate to taste her. But as she leaned her nose into the fabric of her panties, she felt Caity’s hands on her head, gently but firmly pushing her away. Frustrated, Abbey looked up. Holding her gaze, Caity slowly encouraged her back onto her feet. She spoke gently.

“My cunt is for Mistress Sarah and her alone.”

Abbey pleaded with her eyes and kissed her again, as though she could change her mind with her lips. But Caity continued.

“My cunt is for Mistress Sarah and her alone.”

“My cunt ...” Abbey struggled, trying to hold the words back, failing.

“… is for Mistress Sarah and her alone.”

“My cunt is … is for Mistress Sarah and her … her alone.” Abbey trembled.

“My mind belongs to Mistress Sarah.”

“My mind belongs to Mistress Sarah.” Abbey felt her mind spin with each word.

Caity pushed one thigh forward, forcing her friend to part her legs. Their bodies melted into one pulsing mass of heat. Eyes still locked together, she spoke again with deeper purpose.

“My body belongs to Mistress Sarah.”

“My body belongs to Mistress Sarah.” Abbey agreed, now sharing her blissful tone.

“My cunt is for Mistress Sarah and her alone.” They chanted in unison.

 

VIII

 

Robert closed the door.

“Abs? You home?” He called into the darkened house. He wondered for a second, before he heard an urgent patter of footsteps run up to him. He caught a glimpse of a black negligee as she rushed him. Before he could even speak he felt his wife’s tongue in his mouth, her lithe little body wrapped around him. She crossed her legs and pushed herself into him, grinding her hips as she did.

Abbey didn’t let him speak as she pushed him down onto the tiling of their hallway. In the darkness she was a like a woman possessed. She straddled him, tearing at the buttons of his shirt. Impatient, she turned her attention to his belt buckle. He could hardly move he was so stunned, but her hand on his rod brought him back into the gasping moment. Her prize found, Abbey moved with the agility of a cat. Spinning above him until her head was between his legs once more, she clamped her thighs around his head and greedily devoured his cock. For long moments she savoured the taste of him, but she knew she had an important task to complete. She pulled her mouth away but kept a hold of his shaft, slowly pulling on him as she began to speak.

“Robert, I have to tell you something important.”

His reply was muffled from between her legs, if it was a reply. He was enjoying the sensations her touch was bringing him too much to care at that moment.

“My mind belongs to Mistress Sarah.”

As the words fell from her lips she felt a sense of calm and relaxation so powerful she melted onto his body. Her hand slipped away from his shaft.

“My body belongs to Mistress Sarah.”

Robert froze, utterly disconcerted at his wife’s behaviour. She pulled her hips away from his head.

“My cunt is for Mistress Sarah and her alone.”

She was little more than jelly when he pushed her from him. He gathered himself and pulled himself up. He looked at the sloppy, faraway grin on his wife’s face.

“What in the hell are you talking about?”

“You have to come with me right now, darling.”

Without even pausing to slip on any clothing, Abbey led her dumbfounded husband by the hand across the silent street in the hot, sticky evening. She didn’t have to knock, she knew already the door was open, waiting for her. A warm and heavy air greeted them as Abbey dragged her confused husband inside. The room was a soft, muted yellow of candlesticks. On a chair in the centre of the room, Robert saw a strange, exotic. At her feet was Abbey’s friend, Caity. Apart from a pair of black heels, she was utterly nude. She seemed to be kissing the woman’s bare feet. Robert couldn’t understand what he was witnessing.

“I … I don’t … Abbey, what is going on?”

The woman with the dark red hair looked up, a knowing smile playing across her lips. She playfully raised her eyebrows at Robert.

“Slut?”

Caity raised her head.

“Yes Mistress?”

“Remember your instructions for tonight. You may begin.”

“Yes Mistress.”

Caity stood up, turned, and strode purposefully towards Robert. Before he could understand what was happening or even think of protesting, she had pushed him down onto the sofa. She began rubbing her mound over his trousers. His cock, still half erect from his wife’s touches only minutes ago, reacted to the feeling of Caity’s soaking womanhood pressing into him. He tried to protest, but Caity thrust down, parting his lips with her tongue, gripping his wrists. Under the meaningful bucking of her hips, he could do little except melt mindlessly.

Abbey wasn’t even paying attention. At that moment she had only one focus. There was only singular need. She was already pulling down the spaghetti straps of her negligee as she paced forward, exposing herself, allowing Sarah to see her breasts for the first time. By the time she reached her Mistresses feet, Abbey was naked and on her knees. She lowered her head and began kissing.

 

IX

 

Autumn had arrived in full, and it was a cool and breezy morning. Joanne watched the removals van reverse out of her driveway. She was thinking of all the unpacking she had to do before her house was a home, when her doorbell rang.

Joanne opened her door and was pleasantly surprised to see two women she recognised as her new neighbours. The pretty young redhead introduced herself as Abbey, and the athletic woman said her name was Caity. Joanne noticed they were holding hands.

Abbey twinkled her eyes at Joanne and exclaimed, “Welcome to Wynford! You’re really going to love it here! It’s a lovely town with lovely neighbours! You couldn’t have made a better choice!”

 

Published 
Written by MissingGreen
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