A Long Afternoon

Part of The 5 Hole Couple series. Probably best read in order but are all stand alone pieces.

We were sat around the kitchen table with cups of tea not sure what to do with ourselves when the front door opened. My Master doesn't ever knock, in fact, he has a key and strides in like he owns the place. I doubt the neighbors have ever noticed but I dread the day one of them asks me about him. I guess I could say he's an uncle or other brother? I mean, who has a key to your house and doesn't even knock, maybe other than the cleaner?

We're sitting at the table with tea killing time because we didn't know what his plans were for today. All that his message said was that if possible we should both take this afternoon off work and be at home because "Hubby needs to learn some humility". I've no idea what that meant and my husband seemed delighted and terrified by the phrase.

We're a very average middle-class couple with good jobs, no kids, and a decent social life. What most of my friends don't know about (though a few do and are equally horrified and fascinated about) is that I have been a submissive slut collared by her Master for over three years now, and for the last year or so my husband has joined me in submitting, earning him the various titles of Cuck Boy, Cuckling, Subby Hubby and a few other choice words.

At first, I wasn't that into seeing him submit, I liked having multiple dominant men in my life, but recently I've grown to love it. It took a while, but just recently he's graduated from being made to suck cock (and disliking it) to bring fucked up his arse (and secretly loving it). What this means for him this afternoon I've no idea, but he's squirming in his seat right now.

The door closes and it sounds like there is somebody with Sir. Something about the hushed tones and scuffling noises makes me realize that Sir is up to something.

The kitchen door is opened by a woman I've never seen before in my life. She's mid to late 20s, with black hair tied back in a severe ponytail, a very attractive curvy figure but with visible abs, and dressed in clothes that look like gymwear but you see council estate mums wearing in Sainsburies. Yes, I am a bit of a snob. She comes in and just as I'm standing to ask who she is, my Master comes in behind her.

"Hello you two, glad you could take the time off, though you don't seem to have dressed for the occasion."

Often Masters' instructions come with what we should be wearing.

He loves playing up that I look like a good little demure office worker (because I am), and for our last adventure, he'd specified that Hubs was naked, caged, and wearing a matching buttplug to mine. This message has nothing, so were dressed as we were this morning, for work.

Before either of us can say anything, he continues.

"This is Miss Kelly. We've known each other for a few years and we've played together occasionally. She's the perfect choice to help you both learn this afternoon."

We're sitting, not saying anything and I can see Hubby is about to open his mouth when Kelly pipes up.

"I'm going to have a nosey about and see what this lots gaff is like. Back in a mo." And then she's off out the door and I hear her going up the stairs. We've no idea who this woman is and she's off to poke about in our house. I stand and catch Masters's eye, about to protest. He cuts me off before I even start.

"Now then Toy, I know I didn't give you any instructions but all the same, let's get you sorted. Out of all that," he gestures at my full length, "and down here on your knees please. Chop chop!"

He's like this when he has a plan, almost military, certainly upperclass. I think he's a lawyer or something big in business. He has a commanding and cock sure tone.

When I dressed this morning I chose carefully. I knew that He was coming, but I didn't know what was planned. I didn't want to overdress and be humiliated for it (well, I kind of did, but I didn't want anything expensive to get damaged when it was cut off me or something like that) but I also didn't want to underdress and get accused of not trying. So I just dressed for work normally and hoped I got it about right.

Not that it matters now, it's all sitting in a heap on my chair and I'm kneeling on my kitchen floor at his feet, having my hair stroked.

"Ah tea, excellent." He says picking up my mug and sipping from it, whilst the three of us wait in silence listening to Miss Kelly rummaging around in the house. It goes on for an age and all through it nobody says anything until she reappears.

"Nice spot, lucky folks," She opens with. "The weights bench in the home gym looks like a good play to tie them up and whip them doesn't it?"

Sir nods but doesn't say anything.

"Oh, and I found all the sex toys, took no time at all. You two obviously don't have any kids, I have to hide mine in a locked drawer."

"A drawer?" Master can't keep the smirk out of his voice.

"Yeah yeah, a cupboard, I know, I've got a few. It's not like we can all have our own dedicated dungeons, can we?" She cocks an eyebrow and a hip, being more cheeky than I'd ever dare.

We don't have a dungeon, and we've never been to masters house, so I guess he must, and Miss Kelly has been there, or at least heard about it. I can feel the jealousy rising in me.

It's then I notice she's holding two of my kettlebells, the 2kg ones. She puts them on the table, along with two pairs of cuffs and lengths of rope from our toy chest.

"Right you two, time to get started." Sir puts his tea down and stops stroking my hair.

"Get yourself to either end of this table," he wraps on it with his knuckles, "and you, Cuck Boy, drop those trousers and knickers. Come on come on".

Hubby is wearing a regular work suit and blushes immediately. Shuffling round to the end of the table he undoes his belt and lets the trousers fall, then pushes down his very utilitarian boxers. I've stood and moved to the end of the table already and Miss Kelly is fastening the cuffs around my wrists, having already attached a length of rope. They'd obviously planned this in advance and I can't help thinking about them talking about us.

The other end of the rope is tied to a kettlebell and she walks that up past my husband and lowers it off the edge of the table. My wrists are drawn forward and I bend at the waist over the table presenting my arse. Master steps behind me and nudges my feet further apart with this shoe and then I'm stuck, legs spread, pussy and arse on display, the weight of the kettlebell is enough to hold me down without dragging me over. Miss Kelly chose well.

As I look up and see Hubby is fast heading for the same predicament. Miss Kelly is starting behind him, idly stroking his arse and I think cock and balls. He's not caged and I imagine this is already leaving him hard as hell.

"You two are going to need to cooperate for this, I hope you're on good terms. One of you is going to be beaten, whilst the other gets fucked. Once the one getting beaten can't take any more, they can tap out and the roles are reversed, so the longer you take the punishment, the more pleasure the other gets. It carries on until both Kelly and I are satisfied, so don't be all in at the beginning, it could be a long afternoon."

With that, Master lays a long and wide leather strop in the table. I know what it is, I've seen and felt it before, but I don't think Subby Hubby has. Depending on how it's swung it goes from a heavy slap to a solid whack and it stings. My arse twitches even thinking about it.

"Ladies choice, which end of the table do you want, and who gets beaten first?" Master is obviously asking Miss Kelly, not either of us.

"It'll take this little prick, and beat him whilst you fuck her," Miss Kelly says, clearly stroking my hubby's cock which is, if I'm honest, not huge. He's very aware of it, and it's part of what gets him off seeing me with other men. Master is not huge, though he has made me suck and take some bits lads recently, but he's not small either.

"I want him to see you fucking her" Miss Kelly adds, and I look up into his face and see that he's delighted and terrified.

"Excellent. I'm ready to go" Sir says and I hear him undoing his belt and zip. He lays his hard cock between my cheeks and up my back, and when I look up at Hubs it's obvious he is staring at Sir who is, I imagine, staring right back. With very little fuss Sir then takes his cock in his hand and rubs the tip against me. I know I'm absolutely soaking, and he eases the tip into me with no effort at all.

"Over to you dear, let the beating begin".

I watch as Miss Kelly pats my husband's arse, steps to one side, and brings the strop down in one smooth motion. The noise is terrific in the small kitchen and I see Hubby strain against the rope and wiggle. Miss Kelly seems delighted and lands another lazy swing. I know she's not putting any effort in and these are mere love taps compared to any with any force behind them, but Cuck Boy is wiggling and groaning. He is going to have to man up or I'm in trouble.

"You can start counting now, from 1 again," Miss Kelly tells him.

With the first, or rather third, strike, Sir pushes himself into me, right up to his balls, and for the next 12 strikes, he keeps the same rhythm as the strop.

Hubby taps out at that point, looking up at me with tears in his eyes and it's only then I notice he's still wearing his jacket and tie, both now rucked up and disheveled, trying to apologize. I'm keeping a stern face because I was just getting into the fucking and twelve is a pathetic count, and I want him to know it.

"Looks like he's a pussy if twelve is his limit" Miss Kelly declares.

"Maybe he's just jealous of the fucking" Sir replies.

"Yeah maybe, but he's going to be disappointed then isn't he" Miss Kelly quips, sliding the strop along the table towards me. Sir picks it up and I hear him giving it a few experimental swings.

"I did notice you're not wearing that huge fucking strap-on I've seen you with, the one that looks like it was modeled on a fucking zebra cock," Sir points out.

Hubby hasn't taken anything that could be described as "fucking huge" yet and I can see on his face he's not that into the idea. Sir has idly worked a couple of fingers into my pussy and is working them in and out of me as I push back against him, staring down my husband as I do. I might not be getting dick but at least I am getting attention.

"Yeah, I think he's looking forward to it a bit too much" Miss Kelly muses, "he needs to learn more of that humility you mentioned, so, he's only getting a finger, and my little one at that."

She leans over him and sticks her little finger in his mouth.

"Get it wet, it's the only lube you're getting," she tells him and he seems to cotton on to the idea. Quickly the finger is withdrawn and rather roughly jammed up my husband's arsehole.

"Now that he's sorted, let's get down to business, " Sir says, withdrawing his fingers and leaving me empty.

The first whack follows quickly and I count "one" out loud, not making the same mistake as hubby.

I make it to 24 before tapping out. Master wasn't going at me hard and I wanted to make a point to Cuck Boy that he had given up far too soon.

All the way through I kept eye contact with him as I got beaten and Miss Kelly fingered him. When I raised my eyes to her she stared me down, eventually pulling her finger out and pushing it into my husband's mouth, making him clean and lubricate it before she returned it. He did his best to keep the pleasure and delight in humiliation off his face, but he knew I could see it.

Sir's cock was back at my pussy, rubbing up and down my slit before he sunk it into me again, and with the first slap of the strop, he started fucking me at a decent pace, at one point using my hips to get a good grip and banging me none stop until Hubs tapped out at 30.

Miss Kelly looked like she was really hitting her stride around then too, and was obviously annoyed. Pushing the strop down the table she reached into the sports holdall she brought with her and stepped into the harness of a strap-on. It wasn't huge, but it was definitely not a finger. Then she turns and starts going through our kitchen cupboards, finally coming back to the table with a bottle of expensive olive oil we'd bought in duty-free.

"This looks fancy, I hope for your sake it's as good a lube as it is on a salad or whatever," she said, uncorking it and rubbing a handful over her purple rubber cock.

She wasted no time pushing it up his arse and setting a punishing rhythm, as Sir beat the back of my thighs, occasionally stopping to check his work. I tapped out at 8, furious that my husband was getting a harder fuck than I was.

And so it went on for a couple more rounds until my arse was on fire and my pussy ached and I had been so close to coming more than once, but finally Miss Kelly put a stop to it.

"I think it's time this ungrateful bastard", she pauses to turn my hubby's face then the wall, and holds it down with her hand, "should take a real cock, and got to watch his slutty little wife eat my cunt."

"An excellent idea. She is a fine pussy eater I'm told," Sir says, pulling his dick out of me and walking round the table. Miss Kelly has come the other way around, stepping out of the harness as she did and peeling off the visibly soaked skintight gym leggings. She's not wearing anything underneath. The last thing I see before she helps turn me over on my back is Sir lining up behind my man and pouring more of the expensive oil between his cheeks.

I'm laying on my back, arms uncomfortably above my head and feet awkwardly still on the group as Miss Kelly climbs into the table and unceremoniously swings a leg over my face and lowers her pussy into it, a knee on either side of my head.

I don't wait to be told what do you and to the soundtrack of my husband and Master grunting as one is buggered by the other, suckle and lick her for all I'm worth. She grinds against me and rubs her clit, and I'm soon lost in her. It's only after I feel her cum, shuddering above me that I tune in to what she's saying, berating my husband for not being able to make her cum like that, for being a good little cock sucker, for bending over and taking it like a bitch which still wearing his suit. She's rude and crude and her accent and language make it all so much worse for him I'm sure.

Miss Kelly lifts herself up and looks down at me.

"You are a good little cunt licker, aren't you? I bet nobody ever thinks that when they see you in the street though do they? Proper little prissy miss out there aren't you?"

I didn't get a chance to say anything because she scrambled round and the last thing I hear from her is "Now shove your tongue up my arse or I'll take the strop to your cunt" and so I do.

Eventually we're unbuckled from the cuffs and I'm hugging hubby whilst Sir wipes his cock clean on our tea towel and Miss Kelly swaps the gymwear for a very cute bra and panty set.

"Look at the mess you've made down there," she says, pointing to my husband's end of the table. Under it is the unmistakable splatter of cum, amongst drips and dribbles of olive oil.

"Go on then, get down there, lick it clean!" Sir puts just enough anger into his voice that we both start to get down on the floor but Miss Kelly stops me with a hand.

"Not you lovely, he needs to take responsibility for his mess. We're going upstairs."

She takes me by the hand and leads me up to my own spare bedroom, bringing the holdall in the other, leaving my Husband downstairs, licking up cum and oil off his own kitchen floor.

We sit on the bed bed side by side and she starts to stroke my hair and neck, rubbing a hand over my breasts, and then leans in to kiss me. We snog like teenagers as she dips a finger into me and I do the same. I pinch her nipple through her bra and her response is immediate, she has a fist full of my hair and is pulling me away from her by it.

"No no no, just because we're being all girly girly don't you forget your place or I will slap you silly," she says, and then we go back to snogging and groping, only she's very definitely in charge

"I'm sorry Miss Kelly, I..." I stumble and then recover, "why are we in the spare room and not our room?"

"A good question!" Sir takes me by surprise, standing in the doorway, naked, hard, and looking more muscled than usual. At his feet on all fours is my husband, a collar round his neck and a pink plastic chastity cage visible between his legs.

"Yours is a divan bed and I didn't think we'd manage to jam Cuck Boy into one of those drawers, even though I was tempted to try," Miss Kelly answers.

"Now get under there you look little cunt, and be thankful you get to listen to what is happening to your wife even if you can't see it and can't touch yourself".

My husband crawls on all fours to the foot of the bed, gets on his back, and wiggles himself under. Sir smirks down at him, stroking his cock which I can't take my eyes off.

"Whilst you're under there, shove a finger or two up your arse. You might as well try to get yourself off." Miss Kelly is almost laughing as she says it.

Master steps up to where I'm sitting and eases his cock into my mouth, calling out to my husband," She's sucking my cock now. I gave it a wipe when we were downstairs but the last place it was, was up your arse. She doesn't seem to mind."

Actually, I really do, and I'm trying not to think about it, but Miss Kelly is kneeling behind me, groping my tits and keeping a handful of my hair in her fist as Sir starts to pick his rhythm up and face fuck me. Pressing against my back I can feel Miss Kelly's massive strap-on which she must have put on whilst I was distracted by the Cuck wiggling his way under the bed. It feels like it goes halfway up my back and I can't help imagining how deep it'll no doubt be shoved into me.

Not that I need to imagine. For the next hour they fuck me seven ways to Sunday, taking all my holes, slapping me, choking me, making me use my tongue and hands, all whilst gleefully narrating this to my man, who's under the bed, watching that mattress taking a pummelling much like my pussy and arse, all with a couple of fingers stick up his arse. I cum again and again, with Sir's dick in me, with Miss Kelly's strap-on buried up my arse, with them DPing me, with my face stuck between Sir's cheeks rimming him whilst Miss Kelly eats me, I lose count. They both cum plenty too, Sir pumping squirt after squirt of cum in my arse and pussy.

At some point, I notice the camera. Sitting on the chest of drawers, on a little tripod, its red light shows its recording. Miss Kelly sees me looking.

"You know everything today her been recorded right? He always does this, I've heard about your little cinema nights. Well all four of us will be meeting up in a few weeks to review and relive the whole thing. I might even have you round to mine, we can watch it on the projector from the hot tub."

Visions of a hot tub outside in the yard of a council estate fill my mind's eye, the sight of all this projected onto the yard wall where the neighbors can see, absolutely horrifies me. Surely that's not what she means?

"Time to wash these two up didn't you think?" Sir says, "Come on cucky, out from under there, chop chop".

It's not dignified (like any of this is) but hubby finally makes it out from under the bed. It takes him a long time because his fingers are still up his arse, nobody has told him he could take it out. Miss Kelly laughs delightedly when she realizes.

"Suck that clean and get a fucking move on," she tells him and he does.

He ends up in the bath, and they have me straddle his face, cleaning my pussy and arse. Sir fucks my mouth and eventually Miss Kelly wanks him off onto my face. How he has any cum left in him I'll never know, but he does and it's running over my eyes and down my cheek. I go to wipe it off and Miss Kelly stops me.